


The Pirate's Daughter

by hornblowerfic_archivist



Series: The Pirate's Daughter [1]
Category: Hornblower (TV), Hornblower - C. S. Forester
Genre: Action/Adventure, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasy, Gen, Graphic Sex, Humor, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-21
Updated: 2009-07-21
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:22:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hornblowerfic_archivist/pseuds/hornblowerfic_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Horatio and the crew of the Indy pull a young girl from a shipwreck, they get MUCH more than bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Hornblowerfic.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Hornblowerfic.com). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in January 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [Hornblowerfic.com collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hornblowerfic/profile).

"Git 'er outta here," the large barrel-chested Captain commanded fiercely, wielding his cutlass and striking down any man who got in his way as he made his progress across the deck of his besieged ship, The Elizabeth Anne. "Did'nea hear me man, now!" he commanded his first officer, a former slave by the name of Glasspoole, as he ran his hand through his blood encrusted rust colored beard.

"Aye, aye," Glasspoole replied, taking hold of the small yet strong girl's shoulders and beginning to drag her below decks.

"Leave off!" she protested loudly, trying to fight him but to no avail; he was stronger than she and he lifted her off the ground effortlessly and carried her over his shoulder while she kicked and screamed.

"This inna fight fer ya, little one," the Captain said softly as he watched the scene. He knew she was more than capable of defending herself, by pistol or by sword, but this was the last of fights and the Captain knew it. He cursed the day he'd ever agreed to this, to take on a Spanish frigate. The money had been good and the spoils promised to be richer but he knew not at the time the cost of such a venture. Such were the lives of privateers and he knew it. Lucky as he'd been, everyone's luck had to run out eventually. He just wished he'd had more prudence in deciding to bring Amy along on this particular venture. He allowed the girl too much, he knew it, but he was all she had and vice versa. He cried aloud as the deck below him exploded in a shower of splinters at the impact of a canon ball. It was over. He had but one hope: that at least some of his devoted crew survived, though he sincerely doubted the possibility.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"My... God," First Lieutenant Bracegirdle murmured as he and Captain Pellew surveyed the damage, the flotsam and wreckage floating on the surface of the choppy gray-blue ocean. "Definitely an English ship. What in blue blazes happened here?"

"Privateers," Pellew answered gravely.

"You think privateers did this?"

"No, I think this was a privateer ship," sighed the Captain. "They must have gotten more than they bargained for. Bring us in closer, well search the wreckage for survivors. Looks like the hull is still somewhat in tact if rather overturned," he nodded towards the broken hulking remains of the ship, still afloat but not for long it looked. "Mr. Hornblower," he barked sharply, "away the boats and search the wreck. Take aboard any you find alive."

"Aye aye, sir," Horatio saluted.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Can't imagine as anyone survived this," Styles observed quietly over his shoulder to Matthews as the two rowed the dinghy. Bodies littered the water amongst the flotsam, most mutilated beyond recognition as human beings.

"We must remain hopeful, Styles," Horatio said in rather a troubled tone, overhearing. "Ho there, pull left, I think I've spotted something moving among the wreckage!"

It was a man, clinging desperately to the underside of the upturned hull, waving his arm with all the strength he could muster, trying to draw attention. As they drew closer, they saw he was a dark skinned man, his head shaved bald and covered in a red (or had it just been stained so by blood?) handkerchief, and top of his right ear missing, a shiny gold hoop decorating the lower end. Styles pulled him aboard by the shirt collar.

"Give him some room!" Horatio commanded, pushing sailors out of the way as Styles lay the man down on the bottom of the boat.

"Troy," the man murmured deliriously.

"He's injured," Horatio snapped, calling for the first aid. The he addressed the man: "Troy, sir? Is that your name?"

"No," the man said suddenly bolting upright and catching Horatio by the jacket, "Troy's still in there! Gotta get... promised to protect Troy, promised Captain to protect Troy." With that the man collapsed and fainted dead away.

"In there, sir?!" Matthews asked incredulously, pointing towards the hull wreckage.

"We'd have to swim under, we'll get tangled in the riggings for sure!"

"Obviously the reason the lad didn't swim out himself," Horatio deducted. "This man took great risk in doing so. Perhaps this Troy will help us understand what happened here, especially if the Captain had him under special protection." The men looked skeptical but Horatio had already started stripping off his jacket and sword.

"Beggin' yer pardon, sir," Styles asked, "but you're not thinkin' on going down there yerself are ye?" But the question was rhetorical for it was obvious that was exactly what he intended to do. Styles' chest puffed with pride as he stood, volunteering to go along.

"Right," Horatio nodded. "And the rest of you wait here and attend to the man. We should be up again shortly."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The water was warmer than Horatio had expected but still cold enough to prickle his flesh. Matthews was correct in his assessment, the tackle and the riggings proved themselves perilous traps as they swam downward, loose ropes always threatening to ensnare their limbs and not let go.

They followed a trail of tiny air bubbles escaping from a large hole in the side of the hull and swam inside. They surfaced in an air pocket where they found two shivering forms sitting atop an overturned desk floating in the rapidly drowning cabin.

"You take one, I'll take the other," Horatio told Styles, who nodded in agreement.

Styles helped the first figure, a tattooed man, off the desk and together they went under and made their way back to the surface. The other figure cowered away from Horatio as he offered his hand to help but finally relented. Taking a deep loud breath each, they descended into the murky water. Taking the path Styles had cut for them, they swam until Horatio felt an urgent pull on his hand and looked back to see that his young companion had tangled his foot in one of the treacherous stray ropes. Without even a thought of turning and surfacing, though the air in his lungs was becoming more and more difficult to keep and his chest was feeling heavy, he swam towards the youth and drew a knife cutting away the rope from his ankle. He grabbed at the small form recklessly, trying to seize any part of the boy to drag him to the surface he took him beneath the arms and as his hand wandered slightly he got a handful more than he bargained for, soft and round. He flushed deeply but did not seek to withdraw even upon seeing the shocked look on the face of the youth and together they ascended.

They broke the choppy surface and indignant feisty smoky hazel eyes met bewildered large brown ones as they both gasped for breath. "Bloody cheek," the youth finally sputtered when she was able to draw enough breath, giving Horatio a good slap.

He withdrew his hand, mortified. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't realize." Now, here in the daylight it was obvious to him, the lovely feminine features of her rounded face, though her dark brown hair was cropped as a boy's, a bit on the longish side and her dress was that of a sailor's. "To the boat?" he asked, not daring to put his hands on her again.

Matthews offered Horatio his hand and helped him aboard, then the young lady. "Oh, bugger off," she snapped as her appearance elicited hoots and hollers from the crowd of sailors. Her thin muslin shirt clung to her shapely bosom wetly, showing off more of herself, the dusky shadows of her breasts' peaks, than she would have liked.

Horatio, his cheeks stinging crimson at the thought of unwittingly having groped the tantalizing objects, offered her his jacket and she took it gratefully, wrapping it around her shoulders and chest. Taking this as a sign of goodwill she warmed somewhat to Horatio though still eyed him suspiciously as she nodded towards the unconscious black man at the bottom of the boat, "Is Mr. Glasspoole alright?"

"He's taken a mighty blow to the temple," one of the sailors answered, obviously possessing sort of medical knowledge, "but he's not concussed. He should be fine."

"Troy?" Horatio asked, addressing the tattooed man. The man shook his bald, scarred head and nodded towards the girl. Frowning, Horatio turned to her. "Troy?" he asked again, his brow furrowing.

The girl raised her chin defiantly and replied, "Amy Troy Alleyn, daughter to Captain 'Redbeard' Edmund Alleyn, the cur of the seven seas, captain of the dreaded Elizabeth Anne and lately in the employment of the crown."

"Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower of His Majesty's ship the Indefatigable," he introduced himself properly.

"We owe a debt to you, Lt. Hornblower," she said proudly, keeping a lofty air of authority about her. "Now, to your ship?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Horatio swallowed hard, remembering the delightful feel of the girl's soft supple flesh against his hand, the hard tip of her nipple stiffening against his palm, though he tried to explain this away as being just the temperature of the water. He stole a guilty glance towards her, as she now stood before Captain Pellew in his cabin, changed from her wet clothes into a dry ones. He looked away quickly, flushing; though relishing the memory was what any good sailor who'd been at sea for some considerable time would have done he thought on himself as a gentleman who shouldn't dwell on such things.

"And that was all he told us," she concluded. She was extraordinarily articulate for a girl who'd grown up in the situation she had, Horatio couldn't help but notice. He scowled at his own attentiveness of observation. "We were to ambush the Spanish frigate, we were paid in advance with more to come after the job was done plus a share of the spoils. He said nothing but I believe my father was suspicious; he... smelled something in the wind, but that is just conjecture. My father intentionally withheld information from us should we be captured and the intelligence extracted from us by means of torture or otherwise."

"You are a very intelligent woman," Pellew observed quietly, his hand to his forehead in deep contemplation as he sat behind his desk. "were you given much education."

"The sea was my education, sir," she responded with an obvious respect for the man sitting before her. "If I may say, you've wandered into very dangerous waters, Captain Pellew. The Dagos are all around and their ships are carrying deceptively large amounts of firepower. And there could be... other problems, unsavory-type characters lurking about looking for the pay-off or possibly even helping the Dagos... sir."

"I have no doubt of your capacity for self defense, Miss Alleyn, considering as you managed to survive an attack that almost completely eradicated your ship," Pellew said thoughtfully, "but your presence here presents somewhat of a dilemma on my behalf, you understand?" She nodded. "I can't have you around the men, for obvious reasons," (at this she stole a glance at Horatio who colored considerably), "I suppose I'll have to clear out one of the wardrooms, have the men double up."

"Don't trouble yourself on my account, I've slept in much worse condition than this," she said defensively but he silenced her effectively with a rise of his hand.

He reminded her so much of a more refined, more sophisticated version of her own beloved father; the commanding presence, his shrewd furrowed brow. It was obvious the girl was in awe of the man, a deep reverence for him burning in her breast for she had not been half as polite or reasonable since they'd hauled her onto the dinghy, as Oldroyd could attest to as he was now nursing a black eye due to a rather lewd suggestion he'd made to the lady's face.

"And I will see that you do not while you are aboard my ship," he smiled slightly. He didn't doubt her admission nor her insistence that she was used to wearing boy's clothing when they'd tried to apologize for having none of lady's about. She was a scrappy thing, probably gotten herself into and out of more scrapes than he could imagine. A strange sort of admiration was shared between them. "Mr. Hornblower, see it done!" he barked.

"Aye, sir," was the preoccupied, slightly disinterested reply.

"And Mr. Hornblower," Pellew stopped him as he was about to leave, "what on Earth did you do to your face?"

Horatio touched it tenderly where it still stung slightly and realized the slap must have left a mark. He caught Troy smiling out of the corner of his eye and wanted desperately to take her across his knee, or something else... but no, he had to shake those thoughts from his mind. "An injury when I was rescuing Miss Alleyn, sir," he answered, bowing stiffly and escorting Troy out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Horatio swallowed hard, remembering the delightful feel of the girl's soft supple flesh against his hand, the hard tip of her nipple stiffening against his palm, though he tried to explain this away as being just the temperature of the water. He stole a guilty glance towards her, as she now stood before Captain Pellew in his cabin, changed from her wet clothes into a dry ones. He looked away quickly, flushing; though relishing the memory was what any good sailor who'd been at sea for some considerable time would have done he thought on himself as a gentleman who shouldn't dwell on such things.  
  
"And that was all he told us," she concluded. She was extraordinarily articulate for a girl who'd grown up in the situation she had, Horatio couldn't help but notice. He scowled at his own attentiveness of observation. "We were to ambush the Spanish frigate, we were paid in advance with more to come after the job was done plus a share of the spoils. He said nothing but I believe my father was suspicious; he... smelled something in the wind, but that is just conjecture. My father intentionally withheld information from us should we be captured and the intelligence extracted from us by means of torture or otherwise."  
  
"You are a very intelligent woman," Pellew observed quietly, his hand to his forehead in deep contemplation as he sat behind his desk. "were you given much education."  
  
"The sea was my education, sir," she responded with an obvious respect for the man sitting before her. "If I may say, you've wandered into very dangerous waters, Captain Pellew. The Dagos are all around and their ships are carrying deceptively large amounts of firepower. And there could be... other problems, unsavory-type characters lurking about looking for the pay-off or possibly even helping the Dagos... sir."  
  
"I have no doubt of your capacity for self defense, Miss Allyen, considering as you managed to survive an attack that almost completely eradicated your ship," Pellew said thoughtfully, "but your presence here presents somewhat of a dilemma on my behalf, you understand?"  
  
She nodded. "I can't have you around the men, for obvious reasons," (at this she stole a glance at Horatio who colored considerably).  
  
"I suppose I'll have to clear out one of the wardrooms, have the men double up."  
  
"Don't trouble yourself on my account, I've slept in much worse condition than this," she said defensively but he silenced her effectively with a rise of his hand.  
  
He reminded her so much of a more refined, more sophisticated version of her own beloved father; the commanding presence, his shrewd furrowed brow. It was obvious the girl was in awe of the man, a deep reverence for him burning in her breast for she had not been half as polite or reasonable since they'd hauled her onto the dinghy, as Oldroyd could attest to as he was now nursing a black eye due to a rather lewd suggestion he'd made to the lady's face.  
  
"And I will see that you do not while you are aboard my ship," he smiled slightly. He didn't doubt her admission nor her insistence that she was used to wearing boy's clothing when they'd tried to apologize for having none of lady's about. She was a scrappy thing, probably gotten herself into and out of more scrapes than he could imagine. A strange sort of admiration was shared between them.  
  
"Mr. Hornblower, see it done!" he barked.  
  
"Aye, sir," was the preoccupied, slightly disinterested reply.  
  
"And Mr. Hornblower," Pellew stopped him as he was about to leave, "what on earth did you do to your face?"  
  
Horatio touched it tenderly where it still stung slightly and realized the slap must have left a mark. He caught Troy smiling out of the corner of his eye and wanted desperately to take her across his knee, or something else... But no, he had to shake those thoughts from his mind.  
  
"An injury when I was rescuing Miss Alleyn, sir," he answered, bowing stiffly and escorting Troy out of the room.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Are they very put out?" Troy asked looking around the wardroom she'd been given curiously. "The men I've displaced, I mean."  
  
"Interested is more like it," Horatio told her humorlessly as he saw to the removal of the former occupants personal effects. "They haven't seen a woman in quite sometime, they're... curious." And aroused, he wanted to add thought to do so was to betray his own thoughts so he bit his tongue.  
  
She finally settled her uneasy body near the window, glancing out with a distant look in her eyes. "Are you, Mr. Hornblower?" she asked.  
  
"Ma'am?" he frowned.  
  
"Curious," she replied bluntly, having taken his meaning of the word. "And don't call me ma'am, I'm not a ma'am, or a miss, I'm Troy. It's what my father always called me. And don't even think of calling me Miss Troy or I shall have to smack you again!"  
  
He curled his fist, trying severely to contain his anger. "Troy," he said, his voice hoarse with the exertion of controlling himself. What was it about this girl, for she was no more than a girl, which inspired such passionate feelings in him? And urges, but that was only natural for a sailor in his position. Surely it was a physical reaction only and would pass, he was certain, as he spent more time with the disagreeable young woman. But why was the idea of spending more time with her so inviting? "I trust you find your accommodations to your liking?"  
  
"They'll do," she replied haughtily with a grin, intentionally trying to irk him. "As I told your captain, I've had much worse. For the past month and a half I've shared a hammock with Glasspoole, so I'd say this is looking pretty good. By the by, how are my friends doing?"  
  
"The tatooed man?"  
  
"Mr. Welles," Troy corrected.  
  
"Mr. Welles," Horatio continued after a moment of composing himself as to prevent snapping at her, "was released from sick bay earlier and Mr. Glasspoole is expected to recover within a day. You are confined to quarters for the time being..."  
  
At this she uttered not a small sound of disapproval. "Captain's orders," Horatio said firmly. "Surely you must see the prudence in it!"  
  
"You'll have to lock me in here!" Troy responded stubbornly.  
  
"If I must," was his deadpan reply though he said it with relish.  
  
"You wouldn't dare!"  
  
"I would if I had to," he said with no small amount of delight.  
  
"Good luck to you then," she scoffed. "How long do you think it would take for someone like me to pick a simple lock like that one, eh?"  
  
"Good to know you have hobbies to keep you busy while you pass the hours away in here," he returned. "Good day, *Miss Alleyn*."  
  
He shut the door and heard her shout of frustration as he turned the key in the lock with a small click, followed by a resounding thud as he imagined she hurled something at the door.  
  
"Bastard!" he made out the words of her cry as he left. "Sodding bloody bastard!"  
  
He put the key in his breast pocket and patted it, a smugly satisfied smile on his lips.


	3. Chapter 3

"So, H'ratio, what's she like," Archie asked eagerly as Horatio sat to sup with him, "this pirate's daughter? Is she feisty?"

"That's one word for it," Horatio grumbled. He didn't like Kennedy's tone; it was a tad too attentive, or stimulated. "She speaks like a guttersnipe and she has the temperament of an irate drunken sailor. She'd do good by someone taking her across their knee!"

Archie grinned widely. "Heard what she did," he indicated Horatio's still reddened and stinging cheek. "Did you really have a feel?"

"It was an accident!" Horatio flushed angrily. Good Gawd, did the whole bloody ship know?! "How was I to suspect?! And I was saving her life at the time!"

"I should very much like to speak with her," Archie said, his devious eyes twinkling sapphire in the dim light of the lanterns of the mess. They had a mischievous spark to them that always made Horatio extremely uncomfortable. "You hold the key to the wardroom, do you not, H'ratio?"

"I do, and it will remain so, Mr. Kennedy," he replied sharply. "Trust me, you don't want anything to do with the little brat. She'd slit your throat just as soon as look at you. I think we all must remember what kind of upbringing she's had, the kind of cutthroat existence she's lived. Who knows what she's capable of."

"I think that's what we're all eager to find out," Archie grinned rakishly and a few rowdy hollers of those who overheard agreed.

Horatio colored, though whether out of anger or something else, some unidentified emotion, he couldn't tell.

"She'll remain where she is," he said curtly. "Now if you gentleman will excuse me, I've had a very trying day."

The men around the table all rose as Horatio stood and stalked off sullenly.

"What's bothering him?" Archie raised an eyebrow once his friend was well out of earshot.

"Methinks he doth not care for the lady," Mr. Bowles added jokingly with a laugh.

"Mmmmm, perhaps," Mr. Bracegirdle smiled keenly. "Or perhaps the gentleman doth protest too much."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Troy watched the brilliant orange and gold sunset as it illuminated the calm waters and dipped peacefully below the horizon. She sighed and, lighting the lanterns, bent to collect the pieces of the object she'd hurled at the door earlier. She searched through the debris of what had once been a compass attentively, inspecting each part until she found just the right one; a small thin, sharp object just right for picking a lock. She smiled to herself.

She'd waited for dark, knowing that only the barest of crew would be about leaving her fairly free of movement. She went first to the sick bay to visit Mr. Glasspoole, who was barely conscious but glad to see she was alright.

"He's doing well enough, love," Dr. Hepplewhite confirmed amiably, giving her a reaffirming pat on the shoulder. "Should be out of here tomorrow if he continues this way."

Troy thanked him and asked of Mr. Welles' whereabouts. "Probably resting in one of the wardrooms," the doctor confirmed. "Couldn't tell you which one. I'm sure you'll see him on the morrow."

Troy nodded and assessing that there was no more she could learn from Hepplewhite, she moved on. The deck of the Indefatigable was quiet, a thin salty breeze racking across the sails leisurely as she moved silently across the wooden planks to a secluded solitary spot where she could watch the stars. She hated being locked up, hated being confined.

This is where she belonged, breathing deeply the sea air, feeling it caress her soft brown hair, gazing at the unchanging constancy of the stars. If only she'd been on deck with her father in his last moments, maybe she could have done something. Maybe she would have died with him. Now she'd never know.

The sound of approaching footsteps brought her out of her deep thought and she turned, fully expecting to come face-to-face with Horatio, scowling at her, scolding her like a child for escaping the prison of his making. Instead, she found herself staring into fathomless pools of sparkling blue and an impish grin.

"Archie Kennedy, ma'am," the dazzlingly handsome man introduced himself, "Officer of the watch." He tipped his hat to her slightly.

"You're not going to give me up to Lieutenant Tight-arse, are you?" she asked distrustfully, eyeing him, trying to suss him out. To her surprise the man laughed.

"If you mean H'ratio, no, I won't give you up," he smiled. "Being confined to quarters must be very difficult for someone like you, I mean who's used to the kind of life you've lived, Miss... er...?"

"Troy," she breathed a sigh of relief, at ease once more, turning to the railing to gaze out to the horizon, then she added warningly, "Not Miss, just Troy."

"Got it," he replied lightly as she felt him join her at the railing, his body heat radiating from him in waves, warming her shoulder and the right side of her face. His thick, strong fingers curled around the smooth wood.

She stole a side ways glance at him, his broad, brawny shoulders, the ample expanse of his muscular chest, his powerful thighs... She turned her eyes away with a slight smile upon her lips.

"Troy," he said softly, "that's an interesting name. Given?"

"No, nickname. My father's men gave it to me jokingly; Alleyn of Troy, the face that sank a thousand ships. It kind of just... stuck. What about you, are you Archie or Archibald?"

Kennedy chuckled.

"Real name's Amy, I always liked Troy better anyways," she shrugged. "It makes the men forget I'm a girl, y'know? They don't treat me differently then. This must all sound very romantic to you," she grinned.

"Sounds different, I suppose," he admitted. "Do you ever want to?" She frowned at him, not understanding the question so he elaborated: "Be treated like a girl, I mean."

Their eyes met, Troy's breath catching in her throat as she drowned in the deep swirling pools of azure. Gently, oh so softly he moved his hand and rested it upon hers.

"Sometimes," she whispered as Archie's thumb hooked around the space between her thumb and fingers and began to caress the sensitive though callused skin of her palm, sending shock waves through her. "Have you been at sea for long?" she asked huskily.

"Long enough," he answered, throatily. "Troy, I... I'm a gentleman."

"And do gentleman have needs as ordinary men do?" she asked with a smirk, the obvious swell straining against the fabric of his tight breeches answering her question. "Women do," she stated boldly, meeting his eyes unabashedly. She'd been months out to sea with only the familiar, fatherly faces of her father's crew for companionship which was pleasant enough but she had begun to long for the more intimate companionship she found at the many ports they visited. Archie colored but kept her gaze.

"Are you going to kiss me?" she asked, leaning closer until she could feel the hot ragged puffs of breath coming from his mouth against the fly away softness of her hair and forehead. She tilted her face upwards. "Or must I do everything myself?"

The tender brush of her rose petal lips drove him to madness. He seized her mouth with his, his tongue roughly plunging into the moist heat between her lips, ravaging her desperately. His hands grasped her shoulders powerfully, pulling her against him. One moved to the back of her neck, keeping her in the embrace of his fiery kiss, caressing the sweat slickened skin of her nape with eager fingers, while the other moved down her body to her buttocks, grasping, pulling her hips into his firmly so she could feel the full force of his arousal, the ample rigid tenting of his pants. They both groaned at the contact as he hungrily devoured her mouth.

Suddenly he pushed her away, flushed and panting, an apologetic look in his eyes. "I'm... I'm on duty, Troy. I can't!"

She put her fingers to his lips. "It's okay," she said, licking her lips, savoring the lingering taste of his greedy kisses. She stood on her tiptoes and nuzzled his cheek whispering, "You know where I am, and I'll be there as long as Lieutenant Horse's-arse has his say."

He had to fight to keep his hand off of her as she leaned into him, her breasts brushing invitingly against his chest. It was hell until she pulled away and sauntered off, stealing a glance back at him with a sultry wink before she disappeared below decks. He curled his fingers tightly around the wooden railing and pulled a deep breath into his lungs, trying to master his wild pulsing desire and cool down before returning to duty. Maybe Horatio was right to lock her up, he considered, trying to ignore his aching groin, for their safety not for her own.

That was one dangerous woman!


	4. Chapter 4

The lock clicked open and Horatio entered, carrying a breakfast tray. Troy lay decadently on her bunk, naked save for the scanty sheet covering her torso, her arms and legs stretched out gracefully, her eyes closed.

Horatio set the tray down and tried to keep his eyes from her but to no avail. The lure of the pale softness of her exposed leg was too tempting, her foot lightly touching the cabin floor. His mouth went dry as he followed the supple curve of her limb up to her half bared thigh, his eyes raking over her body hotly, studying her pert breasts beneath the flimsy material of the sheet. Again, he could not escape the memory of the feel of the tender object in his hand, her nipple pebbling beneath his touch. For a moment, he wanted her; wanted to climb on top of her, hold her down in the bunk and press his lips against every inch of that satiny skin. He wanted to take her, to hear her cries as he pleasured her and himself. Good Gawd, it had been so long since he'd felt the warmth between a woman's thighs and the idea of hers yielding to his delicious penetrations...

"Good morning," she said, surprising him out of his thoughts. She opened one lazy eye and regarded him, then the tray. "That breakfast?"

"For reasons beyond my comprehension," Horatio resumed his biting tone after the arousing shock of the stolen glimpse at her body and the overwhelming thought of making love to her had passed, "the Captain has decided to treat you as a guest, therefore you get breakfast in bed."

`I'd like something else in bed,' she thought to herself, thinking on the frustrated lust of last night. "I assume I'm still confined to quarters?" she smirked.

"Unless you sneak out again as you did last night," he replied curtly. She barely managed to mask the look of surprise that jumped to her face as he folded his arms across his chest with a smug look upon his face. He turned away quickly as she threw the sheet back and stood to dress. Much to his dismay, he felt the uncomfortable tightening in his breeches become unbearable. 'Stop it,' he thought to himself, `stop this madness! You must control your physical urges!'

"Were you watching me?" she asked as she pulled on her breeches, tucking the white muslin shirt into the waistband. `Or did Mr. Kennedy betray me as he claimed he would not?' she thought to herself.

"I saw the lock," he answered regaining his composure as she moved around him and sat where he'd laid the tray. "You have a very delicate touch but the evidence of your tampering is obvious."

"To one who was looking for it," she said glumly, eyeing him sharply as she shoveled the food into her mouth. "I did warn you, you know. I have a talent for it, my father is... was the only other person who could spot it. Can I see Welles today?"

"When I take you to see the Captain," he responded. "He has requested to talk with you."

"And what, you've become my own personal chaperone now?" she snorted sarcastically.

"It's for..."

"...your own good," they finished in unison, Troy in a mock officious tone, rolling her eyes dramatically and crying out in frustration.

"You're sulking," Horatio observed with no small amount of glee.

"I'm not!" Troy moped.

"You are! You're in a mood today. Look at you," he grabbed her chin and turned her face upwards so he could regard her down-turned lips, "you're pouting like a child! Someone ought to take you across their knee!"

"I'll keep behaving like one as long as you keep treating me like one!" she snapped, swatting his hand away. Good Gawd, she hated his condescending tone, his sharp patronizing manner and the joy he obviously got from it. "If you treated me like an adult you might get an adult answer from me for a change instead of these biting exchange of words!"

He seemed stunned momentarily, then maybe even slightly embarrassed. He moved away from her and to the window, staring out though not at anything in particular. When he spoke again his tone was milder, "When you're finished I am to take you to Captain Pellew. A ship was spotted during the dawn watches flying neither French colors or the Jack. He thought perhaps you would know of it? It had a carved skeleton as the figurehead, its arms entwined and outreached."

Horrific realization dawned on Troy, and she swallowed her mouthful of food hard, her eyes becoming shallow and vacant with dread.

"I've just lost my appetite, Mr. Hornblower," she said in a small slight voice, trembling slightly as she looked upon his frowning face. For a moment it seemed all her defenses had dropped, there was nothing there but a frightened though hardened girl and Horatio felt the strange unexpected urge to take her in his arms gentle, stroke her hair and tell her everything was going to be alright but from the look on her face he could tell that everything was not going to be alright. Something was very wrong to shake the unflappable pirate's daughter.

"Is something the matter?" he asked not exactly sure what to say or do. When they'd been sparring verbally he'd known just what to say, exactly what edge to put to his voice but this complete and total change in her caught him off guard.

"I think it's time I talked to your Captain, Lieutenant," she said quietly. He nodded and began to walk to the door to escort her outwards when she caught him by the arm. "Thank you, Mr. Hornblower," she told him and his frown deepened, "I don't think I told you that. For getting me out of that sinking wreck. I was too fearful to go myself and Welles refused to leave me. You saved us both so... thank you."

He was at a loss for words, so bewildered by her sudden civil tone was he that he said the first thing that came into his head, "I was only doing my duty."

Yeah, typical, he didn't care, he was only doing his duty. And what was she doing?! Why was she telling him this, letting him in like this, he who hadn't shown an ounce of respect for her since she'd been brought aboard. Abruptly, his words made the gate come crashing down again between them and she resumed her lofty disposition.

"Yeah, well, I suppose if not you, one of your crewmen would've done it," she sneered and he shook off her grip from his limb, sighing as he recognized her disagreeable demeanor returning.

"Come on then," he said sourly.

He led the way while she mentally kicked herself in the arse again and again, thinking on his perplexed and doubtful reaction to her words for being so stupid as to even consider he'd understand what she was feeling when she didn't even understand it herself.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"There we are, lass!" Mr. Welles smiled when he spotted Troy emerging from below decks. "Give us a hug then," he laughed, sweeping the lithe girl up into his arms in an enormous crushing bear hug. "We was worried on you, but you look to be doing well. About your father..."

"I've known for quite some time, old man," she replied gently, giving his muscular arm a squeeze with her small fingers. "We all have to go sometime, eh? Have you seen Mr. Glasspoole?"

"Aye, this morning and he's walking about and talking now," the burly man answered. "Good on him. It's good to see you safe, love," he gave her a loving tweek on the nose. "I didn't believe these gits till I lays my eyes on you myself, as I says to them."

"Ah, Miss Alleyn," Pellew greeted, standing as he did against the wind on the deck near the bow. Once again Horatio noticed the sudden change in Troy's conduct; she stood straighter, held her arms behind her back as if she were herself an officer addressing a superior. "I believe you may have some answers for us."

"Mr. Hornblower informed me," she replied with a slight nod," and I'm afraid I do have answers. The ship you saw was Phantasm."

"You know it well?" Pellew raised an eyebrow.

"I rather suspect you know I do; it is a pirate ship," she confirmed. "Her captain, Douglas Alleyn, is a ruthless man that even those of his own kind fear. I should know; he's my brother."

"The unsavory character you warned us might be lurking about here," Pellew said grimly.

"There's something more," she added warningly. "though he never voiced any such opinions to me, I think my father believed Dawg was selling weaponry to the Dagos. He takes no sides and he is merciless. I'd tell you to steer clear of him but if you've seen him, more than like he's already spotted you and if he decides that the Indefatigable is worth his while, he will attack."

Suddenly Kennedy interrupted, begging the Captain's pardon but he needed to speak with Lieutenant Hornblower immediately. He threw Troy a saucy wink as he led Horatio away. She smiled briefly as she watched them retreat to a quiet area of the deck together, then turned back to Pellew, the grave look returning to her face.

"What odds would you give us," Pellew asked curiously, "if Phantasm decided to attack?"

"If it were just the Phantasm, I'd say, judging from the size of your ship and therefore her assumed broadside, that you were the luckier of the opponents. You would lose a lot of men but you would win. But if it wasn't just the Phantasm, if my brother is working with the Spaniards... Let's put it this way: How much do you suppose the capture or sinking of a famous ship such as the Indy would bring in prize money?"

"It would be safe to say that we would be in no uncertain amount of trouble," Pellew said, closing his eyes against the hard realization. "Thank you, Miss Alleyn. You've been most helpful."


	5. Chapter 5

"Oh, what do you want now?!" Troy sighed impatiently when she heard the small wardroom lock click open. Much to her surprise, it was Archie who entered, not Horatio, holding the long iron key in his clever fingers like a prize. He made small motion with his hand to silence her as he closed the door with care and locked it from the inside. "How...?" she asked in disbelief.

He chuckled. "On deck, while you were talking to the Captain, I slipped it from his pocket."

"You've devilish fingers, Mr. Kennedy," she grinned, standing from her place on the window seat and strolling over to him, "I admire that in a man!"

She took his hand in her smaller one and put his thick-callused fingers to the softness of her lips, sucking one of the solid worn digits into the inviting velvety warmth of her mouth. He moaned, watching her through half-lidded eyes with a hazy grin of lust playing across his tanned handsome face.

"You're free?"

"For the next hour or so," he replied, licking his lips excitedly as her tongue continued its wicked attentions to his palm.

"And Lieutenant Hornblower?"

"He's on duty. I'll have the key back in his pocket before he even realizes it's gone missing," he sighed, feeling the blood rush from his head to other more delectable parts of his body.

She trailed her hand down his chest, snaking it inside the scratchy wool of his jacket and heavy waistcoat to the thin cotton shirt beneath where she could feel the heat of his body through the cool material and his heart pounding against her palm. With haste he removed said items of clothing as her fingers played ever lower. They stopped at his belly.

"Just so were sure on what this means..." she started hesitantly.

"Don't worry," he laughed breathlessly, dragging his shirt over his head, "no broken hearts here."

A ragged groan escaped his throat as she lowered her head and licked his hard flat nipple and her hand found the eager bulge in his pants, rubbing and grasping through the strained fabric. He threw his head back and wild sounds flew from his gently parted lips as animal desire washed over him. She sucked and nibbled each of his nipples in turn, tugging them gently with her teeth, nuzzling his muscular sun kissed chest, letting her nose stroke into the soft dusting of golden hair, taking in the musky scent of his longing.

"It's been so long...I want to see your body," he said huskily, tugging at her shirt until he loosed it from her waistband and pulling it up over her head and arms.

He grinned lustily at the sight of her pert round breasts and cupped them enthusiastically, working the soft flesh with his thumbs until the sweet pink buds of her nipples stood erect and ready for the caress of his lips and tongue. He forced her gently yet insistently against a nearby table, pushing her so that her buttocks pressed against the edge and she was coerced into arching her back submissively as he put a strong arm around her waist.

She grasped the edge on the opposite side of the table with a white knuckled grip, feeling his erection push demandingly into the soft cradle of her thighs. She gasped a loud as he teased her nipple with his tongue before drawing the little taut nub between his lips with hungry sucking kisses.

As his appetite grew, he began to linger, suckling her fiercely, burying his mouth in the delicate mound of her breast, his rough-stubbled skin prickling her sensitive flesh, his chapped lips and the roughness of his tongue making her shiver with the sensation as she tangled her fingers in his fall of flaxen hair, whispering luscious words of encouragement to him between excited pants and grunts. He had been so long at sea, it had been so long since he'd tasted a woman and he wanted to savor every inch of her, explore her ravenously like a man dying of thirst in the desert suddenly offered an ocean to drown himself in.

His fingers aptly found the buttons to her breeches and undid them immediately, sliding them down her shapely legs, caressing the skin with his mouth and tongue as he helped her step out of them. He discarded his just as quickly, letting her take in the beautiful sight of him, his long, thick pulsating shaft standing out eagerly from his muscular thighs, the moisture on its throbbing tip telling her how ready he was for her.

She got to her knees before him and, meeting his smoldering gaze, began to lick and kiss along his rigid velvety length. Letting out a fierce growl, he took her face in his hands, gently messaging her lips with his thumbs, persuading her to open her mouth wide enough to receive him. He slid himself into the heated moistness between her soft lips, feeling her tongue stroke him hungrily, her lips suckle him insatiably. Strangled groans ripped from his throat as he grabbed her hair to pull her closer to him and began to thrust lightly.

Tory closed her eyes, reveling in the salty masculine taste of his manhood as she devoured him. She savored the first precious trickle of his tangy pre-come against her tongue and was preparing to drink him in when he made to stop her, pulling away, his face flushed with desire and strained with the exertion of holding himself back. She looked up at him curiously, running her hands along the burning expanse of his powerful thighs, the coarse hair she found there tickling her fingertips. Dazzling blue eyes opened and looked down at her as he told her huskily in a voice trembling with passion,

"I want to cum inside you. Oh God, now Troy! I need you now, I can't be gentle!"

She nodded and stood, leaning against the table again, spreading her thighs wide to admit him into the slick entrance of her body. He smiled hazily, lost in a cloud of ecstasy, as he grasped her hips and pulled her to him violently, plunging his full length into her barbarously. She cried out desperately, feeling his entire ample rod filling her. His penetrations were hard, fast, brutal, the power of his thrusts and his size hurting the small girl slightly, but the unbelievable pleasure mixed with the tiny waves of pain served only to heighten her rapture. She met each of his penetrations with a tiny movement of her hips, allowing him to bury himself even further into her sensual warmth. Groans and cries were coming ferociously from both their throats as he moved on her savagely.

Much to her shock and arousal he flipped her over in his arms and entered her from behind. She braced her palms against the table as she felt one of his hands on her back, pushing her down, urging her thighs further apart with his knee while the other hand sneaked around her waist and, parting her moist folds, found the bud of her womanhood and rolled it with insistent probing fingers. She closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her.

Lightening shot through her veins and pleasure threatened to drown her in its mighty suffocating intensity as she panted and cried out again and again. The feeling of him inside her, of his mouth and tongue caressing the bared skin of her back and shoulders, flooding every cell of her being with ecstasy. He shouted coarsely as he poured inside of her, sending her over the edge.

She felt the edge and reached for it, tumbling, free falling into heaven. She arched her back as her exhilaration reaching its peak and she came, her muscles tightening around his shaft, her blissful convulsions milking him as he spilled his seed, his name coming from her lips frantically in a fulfilled delicious sigh.

But no, not Archie's name, **his** name: Horatio's.


	6. Chapter 6

"Archie, I'm--I'm so sorry," Troy said morosely, sitting on the window seat burying her face in her hands and moving them upwards to run her fingers through her short brown hair as Archie finished dressing. "It was... really...fantastic, I mean, really fantastic! I just..."

"Don't worry about it," he said, trying to keep his tone light though it was obvious he'd been stung though not that deeply. Sure, there was a little bit of wounded pride, but he'd survive. "No broken hearts remember? Besides, I've suspected it for some time now. Maybe because you remind me so much of him, both stubborn as asses!"

He chuckled and leaned over, taking the back of her head in his strong hand and tilting it upwards and bending over until their lips met. He kissed her deeply, his tongue tenderly teasing hers. He sucked her bottom lip between his and nibbled on it for a moment before pulling away.

"Thank you," he said softly, petting her hair and running the back of his rough finger along her jawline. He pushed the loose cotton of her shirt from her shoulder and lowered his mouth again, kissing her first at the base of her neck,

"Thank you," on her shoulder, "Thank you," to the top of her breast, "Thank you."

He moved the shirt further and exposed her nipple to him, bowing his head to plant another grateful kiss, his lips slightly parted in anticipation but she stopped him this time, putting her fingertips to his mouth which he kissed lightly in her hardened nub's stead.

"Was I too rough?" he asked.

She giggled and ran her hand through his hair as he leveled his eyes with hers again. "If you had been I would have told you to stop."

"And if I hadn't?" he raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"I would have made you," she said, her face, gravely serious and stern, gave backing to the threat. "Oh, Archie, what am I to do?" she groaned miserably, slightly nipping at the corner of her bottom lip. "I can't be in love with him, I just can't be!"

"Why not, it seems perfectly reasonable to me," Archie said with a slight amused laugh.

"Because!" she asserted peevishly. "Because I don't want to be! He's a wanker! And I hate love, it feels all tingly and wonderful and warm and divine and like I just want to run through the fields shouting `I'm in love'! It's miserable!"

"You don't think he's interested?"

Troy scoffed. "Interested?! Bloody hell, yeah, but that doesn't mean anything! With the possible exception of Captain Pellew and Mr. Bracegirdle, every sodding bloke here has wanted to hump my brains out since the day I was brought aboard! I have even been known to let them, on occasion," she flashed him a wicked grin and he chuckled. "Your stoic Lieutenant Hornblower is not exempt. He delights in thoughts of my punishment, especially by way of a cross hand against my bottom, he keeps me locked up here like his private possession, argues with me every moment like a jackass then steals glances at me when he believes me to be sleeping..."

"H'ratio's a close friend, we're close as brothers," Archie told her, "as a matter of fact he is dearer to me than my own brothers. I know him and he is a good man..."

"And I am no good woman," she laughed, then added emphatically, "nor do I have the desire of ever becoming one!"

"Tell him," Archie said kissing her forehead. "And remember," he grinned naughtily, cupping her breast in his palm and applying gentle, pleasing pressure as his pink tongue flicked between his lips and licked them wickedly in an invitation, "if things don't work out, I'm always here."

Troy leaned forward till her face was almost touching his and smiled, "You are a very depraved man, Mr. Kennedy, and a very sweet one. A kiss before you go; my thanks." She moved her tongue across his lips and he groaned playfully. "Now run along, we wouldn't want Mr. Hornblower to discover the key's gone missing. He might think something untoward happened between us!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The lanterns were just being lit, casting flickering orange shadows about the dark wooden interior of the ship, and a silent purple dusk falling upon the calm ocean as Archie made his way back the officers' wardroom. He took a moment to gather himself, to try to wipe the self-satisfied knowing smirk from his face, before entering. He had no idea how he was going to slip the key back into Horatio's pocket; really it was only luck that got it from him in the first place. It turned out he needn't have worried about it; Horatio was waiting for him in the wardroom, sitting in silent contemplation, his elbow leaned against a table, his hand to his chin. His brow was furrowed and he didn't even turn as Archie came in.

"Getting ready for duty," Archie explained aloud though Horatio seemed to pay little attention.

"Of all the people I would have suspected," Horatio started, his voice low and his anger coolly contained though evident in his tone, "of an act so underhanded, you were the last of them, Archie."

"H'ratio," Archie said, trying to maintain his confident air of innocence, "I don't know..."

"The key, Archie," Horatio spoke firmly, his temper almost getting the better of him. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. The betrayal stung him, the sneaky underhandedness of the act so uncharacteristic of his best friend. Plus there was something else. When he thought on what Archie might have done with her, to her, his blood began to boil. After he'd managed to collect himself again, he continued, "At first I didn't know when or how you managed to slip it out of my pocket, then I remembered on deck when Troy spoke with Captain Pellew and you pulled me aside. Stupid of me not to realize then..."

"H'ratio..." Archie said apologetically but he found himself unable to find the words to finish the sentence he'd planned.

"Just give it back," Horatio snapped, quickly chastising himself for his loss of composure as Kennedy jumped at the sharp sudden tone in his voice. This was Archie; this was the man he thought on as a brother, why was he becoming so impassioned by this that he was siding against his friend?

"Just give it back," he repeated, more quietly this time. With a regretful sigh and a rueful manner, Archie removed the key from his pocket and placed it on the table next to Horatio's elbow.

"It's not what you think, H'ratio..." he began.

Horatio scoffed bitterly. "And what do I think it is? Archie," he said with much difficulty, partly at having to level the accusation, partly at thinking on the consequences of an honest reply, "did you have your way with her?"

Archie laughed, the surprising sound a deep contrast to the oppressive silence that had preceded it, his mirth brought on by his friend's dire seriousness and the way he had worded the question. Did *he* have his way with *her*? He wasn't sure, not with Troy, whether or not he'd had his way with her or she'd had her way with him! It had been her on deck that night inviting him into her bed in no uncertain terms, it had been she who had first crossed the room to him and taken his fingers in the delicious embrace of her mouth. She had made it clear that she had wanted him as much as he desired her, but how could he explain that to Horatio who would still not turn his eyes to him. How could he explain that it wasn't really Archie she wanted at all, that she had called Horatio's name in her moment of bliss?

There was only one answer he could give his friend honestly and he chose his words carefully as he did, "She didn't want me. Well, she did but she really didn't and it's, well, all rather complicated, I'm afraid."

"It was an easy enough question," Horatio said coldly.

"And one I think perhaps you should be asking her," Archie answered in turn. "You really are too harsh with her, H'ratio. She may be a bit coarse around the edges it's true but she has a great heart and it seems at the moment as if it strives for the unattainable. Indeed it is a hardened organ but it beats nonetheless as yours and mine does, most ardently. And I hate that I have been dragged in the middle of your own little private wars and desires!"

He raised his voice as his good humor retreated, "Your name, H'ratio, she called your name in the throes of her passion, as I was loving her!"

The last bit was said with more than a little surliness as he retrieved his hat, placed it firmly on his head and made to leave. "Duty calls me, Mr. Hornblower. You'll pardon me." He nodded curtly and exited the room, leaving Horatio alone once again in the heavy silence of evening.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Captain Pellew, sir," Archie saluted, catching sight of the man standing by the railing of the hull, his elegant form outlined by the blue velvet of the night sky with all of its twinkling diamond shaped stars and the soft gold flickering of a nearby lantern. "Didn't expect to see you out so late, sir."

"At ease, Lieutenant," Pellew barked but softly. "Just checking on a few things."

"Sir, The Phantasm, sir?" Archie ventured a guess.

"Quite," Pellew nodded, impressed as always by the boy's sharpness.

Many of Hornblower's good qualities, the Captain reflected, seemed to be rubbing off on the impressionable young man since they'd become close friends, which pleased him much. Ever since he'd been rescued by Horatio from that Spanish prison, the Captain had noticed a considerable change in him. He was surer, more confident, and more competent. He was not uneasy at leaving the keen boy on watch for the night.

"We have spotted her again, and again she lurks just on the horizon, not daring to venture any further, not attacking and we continue on a course that will keep us in long distance of her."

"And this is what worries you, sir?"

"It does, indeed, Mr. Kennedy," Pellew said, his keen eyes scanning the dark horizon. "It feels almost as if..."

"We're being herded, sir?" Kennedy's voice was shaken with brutal revelation.

Pellew was silent for a moment. "You are the Officer of the Watch, Lieutenant?" Archie nodded. "Keep your eyes open, will you." Kennedy nodded again and saluted as the Captain took his leave. The growing dusk was warm but carried a decided chill and the breeze nipped at Archie's already reddened cheeks.

Being herded? But to where? And to whom? Bleeding hell, they were in trouble.


	7. Chapter 7

"Oh, it's you again," Troy said sullenly as Horatio entered her wardroom, a stern, almost bedeviled look on his face.

He shut the door rather violently, giving her a start and making her swallow hard when he locked it behind him, the suddenness of his movements and of the rush of air from the door causing the cabin's lantern's flames to shudder, causing strange shadows to dance across the walls.

"Were you hoping it was your beloved Lieutenant Kennedy again," he said, his tone so biting and acrid it gave her gooseflesh.

She gasped dramatically but without amusement, "We're discovered! What ever shall I do now? What will people say of my honor?"

"Enough," he snapped, his anger rising with every one of her mocking words. Godammit, why was she having such an effect on him?! Why, even now in his unsettling rage, did he look on her with desire blazing in his eyes so heavy that she seemed to shrink away from him momentarily as he crossed the room to where she sat.

A lump formed in her throat as she stood to meet him, her earlier discovery of her feelings for him stinging her to the core as she gazed into his achingly handsome face. She faltered temporarily, frightened of him, of herself; then her confident countenance came back to her and she regained her composure.

"Did you make love?" he asked when he was close enough that his breath scorched her skin and blew her hair.

"Do you want to make love?" she said breathlessly, wetness beginning to seep hotly between her thighs. He was so close to her she could feel the heat radiating from him but he made no attempt to touch her. "That's why you're here, isn't it? I know you've wanted to for some time, since you felt this," she took his hand in hers and placed it on her breast. He remained rigid, still, keeping his hand flat and indifferent against the cool fabric of her shirt and the supple softness beneath it. "I know you want to possess me," she continued huskily, "that's why you keep me locked in here, thrusting the long... hard... key in the lock. Maybe I'm being impertinent, that'll cause me a spanking, won't it Mr. Hornblower? That idea arouses you as well, does it not? Taking me across your knee, punishing me by your hand across my backside, chastising me. Would you want me to take my pants down first?"

His gaze remained leveled with hers; strong, resolute, almost icy, still she relished gazing into the luscious pools of his eyes, no matter how hard his stare. She removed his hand and slipped it into her shirt, again over the tender mound of her breast. This time he reacted, grasping the flesh in his palm aggressively, making her to cry out in shock and delight. She closed her eyes, feeling her nipple tingle with sensation and grow taut against his rough touch. She arched her neck and upper back, leaning into his hand and tilting her head back daring not to open her eyes should she do so only to see the same indifferent, reserved look upon his face.

"Horatio," she exhaled excitedly, parting her lips slightly.

He watched her, his groin burning with need as she softly, sweetly gave herself up to him. His callused fingertips brushed her ribcage and felt her heart beating wildly, like a hummingbird's wings. Slowly, he moved his thumb in circles around the edge of her firm pink nipple, a sharp gasp flying from her throat. He moved his other hand to the back of her neck, caressing the soft skin beneath her short fall of fine hair and pulled her closer to him until she could taste his breath.

"Please," she whispered breathlessly, "please, Horatio, kiss me. Or must I do everything myself?"

Her words and the sheer passionate wanting behind them sent shivers down his spine and crumbled his last defenses. He ran hot little wet kisses along her jaw line before resting his mouth upon hers, tasting her lips like he would savor a wine. She felt her knees go weak instantly at the rough stroke of his tongue sampling and savoring the flavor of her mouth. She uttered a small sound of disappointment as he drew his hand away from her breast, then gasped in thrill as he licked his fingers, covering them with the heated moisture from his mouth then put them back to her nipple, stroking more insistently now.

Before she knew what she was saying or could even stop it, she murmured against his lips, "I love you, Horatio."

Oh God, now she'd done it. He pulled away, staring at her intently with large shocked chocolate colored eyes, his brow furrowing. Stupid, how could she have been so stupid to let that slip out?! A knot formed in her stomach and tears began to glisten on her eyelashes.

"I'm sorry," she stammered backing away from his embrace as he let her slip from him. "Maybe...maybe you should go now."

At first he didn't understand, her previous words still sinking into his stunned brain. Of all the things he was expecting to hear from her lips, words inviting him into her bed, inviting him to ecstasy, those were the last that came to mind. He thought he'd misheard her, she hadn't really said it or she hadn't said it in earnest. But now he saw the hurt written on her face and in her manner. Did she think him reproachful or disinterested?

"You did not turn Archie away."

"He could not hurt me as much as you," she said quietly, just wanting him to leave before he saw her weep. She hadn't ever even cried in front of her father, she couldn't bear to have *him* see her this defeated, this weak.

"How?" Horatio could hardly believe what he was hearing; his head was spinning from discovery. "How could I hurt you, Troy? I would never."

"Please, just leave me," she tried to turn her face away but Horatio caught it in his large hands so she could not.

He stroked her hair gently and pulled her lips to his, kissing her deeply, a kiss that spoke of long suppressed feelings and desires not just lust or urgent need though both were obviously present. When he again broke the kiss, they were both flushed with passion and panting heavily. She opened her mouth to speak but found she could not; she was confused, aroused and so very deeply in love with him at the moment words just would not do.

"How could you possibly love me, after the way I've treated you?" he asked between planting tiny sucking kisses along her throat. She was so sweet, she felt and tasted so good, he thought he'd lose his mind if she spoke again to him of her affection. The hot pull of his mouth against her skin made her gasp, and she shook her head indicating that she could not speak. "I've treated you worse than abominably. You're so beautiful," he sighed gathering her in his arms and pulling her tightly against him, nuzzling her soft hair and taking her lips with his again. "You... make me crazy and I love every minute of it; I love you. You're so strong and full of life, so independent and your tongue so barbed I never even considered you would think of me as anything but a gnat buzzing in your ear."

"Is your heart so guarded?" she asked her voice so small he felt more than heard it.

"Touch me," he said huskily, "and it shall never be again."

She complied, slipping her hand inside his waistcoat, grazing him through the fabric of his shirt. He moaned, a small smile touching his lips as he fumbled with the buttons of his clothing with shaking fingers. Finally, success! Troy helped him slip the garment off over his shoulders.

"In the bunk," he whispered between kisses. With a grin she rushed over to her berth and waited for him to join her, dragging her shirt up over her head, noticing after she'd pulled the material past her eyes that he had done the same and now his gaze rested hungrily on her partly exposed body. She lay back on the pillow, her arm stretched under her head, as he approached slowly, awaiting his first touch, his first tender caress. She bit her lip as he, gazing down upon her with eyes ablaze with emotion and desire and a wicked smile moving his mouth, he kicked off his boots and settled his body partially on top of hers.

He kissed her playfully while his hand went to her breast again, plucking and tugging at her nipples with deft fingers until they were rigid little plump peaks. He moved his mouth from her lips to her nipple with hungry sucking kisses and back again, then two on her nipple then back to her lips again.

"So beautiful," he murmured, moving his mouth to her tingling pink bud again, repeating the process several times. He liked the way her raised arm affected the full shape of her pert breasts and ran his hand just along the outside of the swell of the soft flesh, watching her watch him in anticipation.

If he had been any other man, she would have grown impatient with his lazy sensual game; but he wasn't another man, he was the man she loved and she awaited each caress with eager expectation. She moaned as he took both her breast in his grasp and began feasting on her nipples, licking, nibbling, suckling with manly craving, delighting in the small sounds of pleasure escaping from her throat. He tickled one taut nub with his tongue and she shivered and chuckled.

"I think you've been out to sea too long, Lieutenant," she chided. "My father used to teasingly call them," (she imitated her father's strong Scottish accent perfectly), "'tyou eggs, sunnyside oop'!"

Horatio laughed, his face breaking into a wide grin, making her heart pound even more wildly than it already was. "I think they're perfect. I think you're perfect."

"Now I *know* you've been at sea too long," she smiled as he resumed his previous attentions, undoing the ribbon of his queue and running her hand through his feathery brown curls. "Gawd, you feel unbelievable," she sighed, arching her back against his mouth.

"You feel unbelievable," he returned, nuzzling the small valley between her rounded flesh, squeezing her breasts lightly.

The man knew his foreplay and was enjoying himself at it immensely. His fingers tickled her belly feeling it tremble under his touch. He moved his tongue to the indent of her naval as his hands slipped inside her breeches and caressed her the sensitive rounded flesh where her hip bones lay beneath. He continued kissing her stomach as his clever fingers undid the button to her trousers and slid them off, she felt them gliding wickedly across her legs exposing all of her to him. She felt a blush stain her cheeks, 'like a little modest virgin', she silently mocked herself.

When he'd fully discarded her breeches, he positioned himself between her sweetly parted legs. She couldn't bear to watch, the sight was just too delicious as he smiled and lowered his head, running his tongue along the soft skin of the insides of her thighs, planting wet kisses as he made his way ever inwards. Suddenly, he drew away and she uttered a distinct cry of frustration. He grinned and took her wrists in his grip pulling them over her head. She began to protest but he silenced her with a deep warm kiss. She realized he was tying her arms with his discarded shirt, securing them to a lantern hook above her head. His name came questioningly from her lips in an excited little gasp. She was unsure of this new development but titillated by it nonetheless, and again he made his way down her body with hot hungry kisses and soft loving nuzzling; her mouth, her neck, her breasts, her belly, her thighs. Her body burned wherever he laid his lips like firebrands, setting her alight with fervent longing.

She widened her thighs for him invitingly, submissively, anxiously awaiting the caress of his mouth. He teased her for only a moment, she could feel him breathing delicately against her eager moist skin. She moved her hips, tilting them towards him, wordlessly begging him to devour her with desperate little sounds. Their eyes met for a moment and he sensuously licked his lush lips in a preview of what was to come. He bowed his head and parted her womanhood with his tongue, licking, suckling, kissing, lapping her essence up greedily. She cried out, arching against him, watching him through half lidded eyes, the fall of achingly soft brown hair moving between her thighs, his long slender finger gently fondling her hips and the insides of her knees. She wanted so badly to reach out and touch him as she felt him nursing demandingly on her tiny quivering bud of passion, wrap her fingers in his hair and pull him tighter to her.

But it was about control and she knew it; Horatio loved to have it, needed to have it, did have it and the thought aroused her more than she ever thought possible. The feeling of his tongue against her satin skin, consuming her, thrusting into the slick entrance of her body, supping her juices and sucking her tender flesh with his luscious lips; he was ravaging her with a appetite and need she'd never knew a man could possess.

It felt like hours, days, as time turned to honey around her, drowning her in its sweet thickness and haze of delectation. Wild pants and sweet words of encouragement flew from her throat as her insides began to coil, tightening like a rubber band, moving her hips against him desperately as she felt herself standing on the edge of the great precipice of her pleasure. He felt her tensing, sensing her impending orgasm he intensified his attentions. She cried out, the rubber band snapping, she came in his mouth, her muscles clenching around him and drenching him in her wet flavor as she repeated his name again and again.

She'd never come with such intensity in her life and as she came back to herself she could feel the warm wet touch of her own tears glistening against her burning cheeks and her body tingling with heat and awash with gratification. He had laid his head upon her stomach, waiting for her blissful convulsions to calm as he savored the taste of her, making a show of licking it from his mouth slowly with great relish.

"Gawd, what are you doing to me?" she smiled with a small catch in her voice as their eyes met again.

"Loving you," he replied, moving so he lay nose to nose with her, kissing her hungrily on the lips, letting her taste herself on his tongue and stroking her jaw with the back of his fingertips. "You're delicious," he smiled against her mouth. "I didn't want to stop. You are so beautiful," he repeated again, kissing the dampness from her tear-streaked cheek.

He was slowly becoming aware of how urgent his need had become, listening to her dove like cries of release as he had pleasured her. The tightening in his breeches had turned into an aching throb, his engorged member demanding attention.

She bit her lip as he began removing his trousers, sliding them down his muscularly slender body. His pulsating manhood was full and long and she gasped at the beautiful sight of it standing erect from the coarse black hair at his groin and his powerful thighs, the moisture on the tip of its swollen head glistening in the soft glow of the candlelight.

"Oh my Gawd," she gasped playfully though the husky catch in her voice displayed her longing, her eyes greedily taking in his ample and impressive size, raking over him like a burning breeze, "what is it with the men of this ship?! Are all of you of an overwhelming size? Is it something they feed you? Are you larger the higher your rank, if so Captain Pellew must have a..."

He silenced her teasing with an enthusiastic kiss. She felt his rigid cock brush against the inside of her thigh and struggled against her wrists' binding. She was going mad at the thought of wrapping her fingers around his silky length, tasting his salty masculinity.

"Please," she said quietly, "I want to touch you, Horatio. Please untie me."

Her tiny enticing plea made Horatio's inside's wrench violently. He did so, releasing her hands which stroked down his body curiously, feeling his muscles tense beneath her light touch, brushing against his round hard nipples, the rough skin of his washboard stomach, the coarse curly hair of his groin and the satiny skin under, finally taking his member into her hand with wonder. He felt like wet warm velvet over steel in her palm, and she was fascinated by the blissful look that washed over him, his eyes shutting and his full lips parting sensually, a groan reverberating from deep inside his chest.

She kissed his throat tenderly, whispering, "And you told me *I* was beautiful? You are truly exquisite, my love."

The last words prickled his flesh and sent a shiver down him; `my love'. His love, forever his. He licked his parched lips and began to pump into her hand as she fondled the base of his throbbing head with her thumb, flicking his eager soft skin tenderly.

"Horatio..."

He caught her hand by the wrist and pulling it away from his throbbing member, smiling as he told her, "Let's not end it that way, I want to be inside of you."

He braced his body over hers, holding her arms above her head in his rough grasp and guiding himself to the juncture between her thighs. She opened her legs for him, bringing her knees up under his arms. His probing manhood found the slick entrance to her and thrust in, filling her slowly, fearing he'd hurt her if he gave her his full length right away. She moaned, arching to take more of him in.

"Sweet Jesus, Troy, you feel so good," he managed to strangle out through a rapturous sigh as her muscles closed tightly around him.

The sensation was so delicious he held himself rigid, unmoving, to savor it. Finally, she got impatient and began to grind her hips against his, sending him over the brink. He took her with long slow but powerful thrusts that made her cry out each time he pushed into her silken tunnel. He crushed his lips to hers as he became more urgent, his penetrations more frantic, more forceful. He ravaged her finally with the need of a man who'd been to sea very long without a woman, with the hunger of a paramour taking his lover to bliss for the first time. He hooked his arms under the backsides of her knees and pulled her to him with each of his pleasing thrusts, using his entire weight and power of his body to pound his swollen muscles in and out of her again and again.

Once again she felt herself rushing towards the borders of her sanity, wild, sweet cries of joy and words of love and devotion rolled off her tongue as if they were the most delicious things she'd ever spoken. Only his deep lustful growls of gratification could have ever matched her delicious shouts.

So this is what is was like, to be loved by a man; not just wanted or tasted or desired, but to truly be physically loved by a man who cherished you, needed you, loved you. With the taste of his kisses in her mouth and his manhood furiously pumping her, she tumbled over the edge, feeling every nerve in her body tremble as she came and fireworks explode up and down her body, from her brain all the way down to her sex. With one, two, three last thrusts he threw his head back and with the same intensity of her own orgasm, spilled his seed into her.

His strength sapped, he collapsed onto her, his chest heaving violently, and she knew in that moment it was possible to touch heaven if only for a moment, only to come rushing back to Earth and find herself in his divine embrace. And she wouldn't trade his touch for anything in the world. He rolled them onto their sides, keeping her within the protective circle of his arms, not daring to withdraw from her pleasing warmth. She kissed his flushed brow and he smiled at her contentedly.

She snuggled into him and he groaned, burying his face in the place where her neck met her shoulder and murmuring, "You're insatiable. So beautiful but such a naughty little girl."

"Maybe you'll have to spank me," she giggled, placing his hand on her backside. "Isn't that what you do with naughty little girls?" He grinned wickedly, telling her to roll on her stomach. Her eyes widened, "You wouldn't dare!"

His only response was to urge her to give into his command, gently pushing her with his hands onto her stomach and into the required position. "Horatio..." she said dubiously but titillated by the feel of his hand fondle the soft round curve of her bottom, brushing against it lightly, cupping it softly.

He urged his knee under her hips, causing her backside to rise slightly. She turned her head on the pillow so she could watch him; he was regarding her tender flesh with heated interest as she felt his fingers play against it. Suddenly, his eyes met hers with a depraved grin. He drew his hand back and smacked her as gently as he could. She gasped loudly and bit her lip, closing her eyes ecstatically.

"Please, sir, another," she said, smiling lustfully and moving her hips so her backside brushed his hand.

He assented, drawing his hand back once again and slapping her with a little more force this time, though not enough to really hurt her just reddening her pale skin somewhat. He felt the blood rush from his head in exhilaration to other parts more pleasing. She opened her eyes and stole a glance at his burgeoning manhood, smiling lecherously.

"Will you be a good girl now?" Horatio asked, kissing her shoulders and running his hand along her lower back.

"Absolutely not," she protested, which earned her another spank, once again a little harder. "Horatio..." she gasped rapturously and he felt his shaft swell further, brushing against her thigh.

"Now?" he asked, licking his lips excitedly, his eyes glistening in the dim light with unadulterated thrill.

"No." Another smack. Then another, harsher each time, making her cry out in delight with each impact of his hand. She was enjoying his gentle punishment immensely and could tell from the physical response of his body, he was as well.

"Now?" his voice was gruff and low with dangerous want.

"Never!"

"That's just what I wanted to hear," he chuckled, bending over and lightly kissing her smarting backside.

He pet her hair and pushed it from her face, taking her chin in his fingers and turning her head further so he could capture her lips in a greedy kiss as his hand moved from her backside, between her thighs, plunging into the pleasing slippery warmth of her core with two fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly. She was groaning raggedly, crying his name over and over, until he couldn't stand it anymore. He removed his fingers, licking them clean and turning her over in his arms. She parted her thighs for him willingly and he thrust in wildly, grasping her hips and moving against her like an animal. Her orgasm exploded within her a moment before his, she felt him pump into her his every last drop as she convulsed around him. She cuddled into his warmth, enjoying every caress, eager to satisfy his every appetite and craving, which were inexhaustible. She fell asleep in his embrace; awash with the peace his love brought her.


	8. Chapter 8

Troy awoke some hours later, disturbed by Horatio's gentle stirring. She grunted and he kissed her forehead, carefully climbing over her and sliding off the bunk. "Three bells, love," he told her quietly. "Someone will notice I'm missing and I'm on duty again soon." He stood and began to slip his breeches on.

"Oh," she moaned in disappointment, watching him cover himself. "It ought to be a crime to hide such a magnificent thing."

He smiled at her, doing up the last of the buttons of his trousers, and bending over the bunk to plant a soft loving kiss on her mouth. She let the sheet slip from her body tantalizingly, exposing her breasts and belly to him. His mouth began to water.

He kissed her again. "You know I want to, love," he told her, skimming the full expanse of her bottom lip with his tongue, "but I can't."

She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for another hungry kiss. These sensations were new to both of them; wanting someone so badly, wanting to fall asleep and awaken in their arms and their arms alone. His hand wandered over her breast almost unconsciously, fingers playing teasingly with the stiffening bud. He couldn't stop kissing her, he knew he had to, knew duty was waiting but her body and his emotions for her had a strange sway over him unlike any he'd ever known.

"Is it true? Did you cry out my name while Archie was inside of you?"

She groaned and pushed him away playfully, covering her face with her hands. "Oh no, he has betrayed me!" she said dramatically, then she pulled Horatio close again. "He is a very handsome man and he has a *very* good way with women, but to my heart none can compare to you. Dare I say it again?" and Horatio urged her to do so. "I love you," she said. "There! Are you happy now?"

A deep, passionate kiss was his answer. He lowered his head to her breast and gave suck to her nipple, her fingers entwining in his hair to keep him against her.

"I want you," she murmured.

He wrenched himself away, knowing if he didn't do so then he wouldn't be able to at all.

"Later, my sweet," he threw her a rueful glance and drew his shirt over his head, tucking it into his waistband. As he was replacing his waistcoat, he suddenly felt something near his breast pocket and paused. He removed the key and pressed it into her hand. He shot him a quizzical look. "I should have given you that from the first. You are best to govern yourself and I was wrong to keep you locked up in here like a secret treasure." She felt the strain in his confession, knowing it couldn't be easy for him to admit such a thing. "I must go now."

"Horatio," the sound of her voice, so silky and seductive, it stopped him in his tracks. He turned to her to see her mischievous grin. "Am I your treasure?"

He pressed his fingers to his lips and held them out to her. "Always," he winked, then realizing he needed the key to unlock the door, walked to her, kissing her one last time as he took the key from her, opened the portal and threw the small metal object back to her, the temptation of her sweet allure too strong to resist were he to be so close to her again. With a small, half joking salute he left.

She sighed, moving over to the window and opening it, hoping the chilly sea breeze would help to cool her overheated skin. A smile touched her lips, imagining she could feel the touch of his lips still lingering upon her body. She took a deep breath of the salty air and decided to go for a walk, hoping it would help to clear her heads of the tasty thoughts of her lover at least for the time being. She dressed and left the wardroom.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Who is this I see?" Mr. Glasspoole laughed catching sight of Troy as she strolled along the railing at the stern of the deck. She smiled widely and embraced him, her heart gladdened by the sight of him well enough to be up and about. She tenderly touched the place on his forehead where he'd injured himself while swimming out of the sinking hull to try to find help and he flinched though he told her, "It is healing. And I am very glad to see you, my girl. I thought we were lost for a time."

"So did I," she admitted. "were it not for Mr. Hornblower..." she flushed slightly, "and the rest of the Indefatigable's crew, of course."

Glasspoole regarded her then laughed, whistling through his teeth. "Is this Mr. Hornblower very handsome?" he asked knowingly and the color in Troy's face deepened. "Oh my, our Troy blushing so modestly. I know you since you were knee high, and I never see you blush before. He must be very handsome indeed."

"Get away," Troy chuckled, giving him a playful push. It was still dark though the sky was lightening somewhat to dark velvety blue to murky purple with a crimson line at the horizon and the breeze, which had rattled the sails all night was now calm leaving an odd sort of heavy feeling in the air. "He is very handsome," she confirmed, "and terribly stubborn and sometimes pig headed, but *occasionally* he can be... wonderful."

"Wonderful? **Wonderful**?" Glasspoole eyed her teasingly. "I helped your papa raise you and never have I heard you call no man wonderful before. Should I be worried for your virtue," he smiled jokingly. "These sailors, they're an unsavory lot."

"Is that right?" Troy laughed. "I shall have to watch out then." She leaned on the railing, gazing up at the disappearing moon and the stars that were twinkling out now, one by one. "He is very handsome indeed," she said quietly.

She chanced to look down at the water and saw something disturbing, a boat moored to the side of the Indy. She turned suddenly to cry out but was silenced by the cool blade of a knife against her throat. She threw a glance to Glasspolle who she found in the same position. Dammit! Was her mind so preoccupied she didn't even see this coming?! That she hadn't noticed the shadows lurking in darkened corners of the deck, following her movements as she walked, closing in closer as she spoke with Glasspoole?!

"I wouldn't make a sound iffin I was you, boy," a gruff voice said, and a small measure of relief washed over her. 'They don't know I'm a girl,' she thought, knowing that the charade was safer for if they discovered her true identity violence rape would surely follow.

The man stank like stale rum and piss and Troy knew instantly, he must be part of Phantasm's crew. Another man's voice called to him softly and Troy's captor replied, "Naw, these look like the 'uns he wanted. We take `em and we leave, thems the captains orders!"

She felt herself being pushed towards the edge over the side to the boat waiting below. When she and Glasspoole were settled in the little dinghy, she recognized four other familiar forms, all knocked unconscious: Styles, a middie named Ben who she remembered as being on the rescue mission that had originally pulled the privateers from their certain deaths in the water, Welles and... a lump formed in her throat. Archie.

"They's for insurance," Troy's pirate captor explained to one of his comrades. "Dawg wants to make sure they don't fire on us before the Dagos git here. The other 'uns are old friends er his," he said with a terrifying wheeze of a chuckle. "Knock 'em out will yer?"

And that was the last Troy heard as the pistol butt came down against her temple and the world faded away.


	9. Chapter 9

Troy groaned, putting her hand to her head and instantly wincing as she felt a lump the size of a ring on her brow. Her vision was blurred and her forehead throbbed with a deep, dull ache, her mouth dry as cotton. As her senses began to come back to her she realized there was nothing much to see anyway. She was lying on her back on the rough wooden floor of an unlit room that stank of stale rum and worse. Her hands were untied but it would do her little good if she was where she rather suspected she was: locked in the brig of the Phantasm.

A figure lay still beside her and she had to squint in the dim light to recognize it as Archie. She shuffled towards him, still a little woozy, and laid her head on the floor beside his. She softly brushed the stray golden locks from his forehead, searching for injuries. He'd not been hit as she had but had extensive bruising around his neck, indicating he was probably choked until he lost consciousness to prevent him from calling out.

She struggled to put her arm around his broad shoulders and shake him slightly, putting her mouth to his ear and hissing urgently, "Archie, wake up! Please, Archie, please!"

Footsteps outside the room and the growing sound of voices outside the room silenced her. She shuffled back into the position she'd been in before and feigned senselessness as she listened. The loudest voice she recognized all too well; Dawg.

"Stupid bastards! I told you to get me officers to bargain with, and you got me this sorry lot!" She heard the key turn in the lock as another familiar voice, the man who had ambushed her on the Indy, stammered its drunken apologies. "Shut yer trap!" Dawg snapped as he entered, Troy could see him through her half lidded gaze, silhouetted against the lantern light in the corridor behind him considering her. "At least you did one thing right," he snarled at his companion, moved over to Troy's still form and nudged her roughly with his stinking boot. "And don't bother pretending with me, little sister. I know you too well for that, you little chit!"

She turned her head and spit in his direction with as much force as she could muster. It apparently hit its mark for he swore most savagely and wiped his face with his shirt, which was most likely even more soiled than she cared to contemplate.

"Little bitch," he said, kicking her in the stomach. She doubled over violently, gasping for breath. He grabbed her by the hair and brutally pulled her to him. "Don't you try to tangle with me, little girl, or I'll make you sorry for it." He turned to his companion, "Tie the lot of `em up. Don't bother being gentle."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Archie stirred, disturbed by the fact he was unable to move. Reality seemed like a vague dream to him as he drifted in and out of consciousness, slowly becoming aware of the weight anchoring him to the floor on his left side. He groaned, his eyes fluttering open confusedly meeting the smokey distressed hazel of Troy's only a few inches from his own.

"Welcome to the world of the living, lieutenant," she scoffed.

"Oh," he moaned, "my head is killing me. Where are we? And why can't I move?"

"Why do you think?" she snorted and he colored when he became aware of the feel of her body tied tightly against his, those alluringly pert breasts of hers pressed insistently into the solid brawn of his chest, the softness of her thighs pushed firmly into the muscle of his. His hands were tied behind his back and his feet together; he assumed hers to be as well, and they seemed to be joined together at the shoulder and hip.

"We're aboard the Phantasm, my brother ambushed the Indy during the night. Don't worry, from what I gathered your ship was not attacked, but we were taken; you and Styles and one of your midshipmen as hostages, me and Welles and Glasspoole for his own personal `fun'. I don't know what they did with Welles and Poolie, but Styles and your middie are over in the corner still unconscious. They're tied together as we are."

"And I doubt they'll enjoy it half as much as I am," he said, a mischievous smile dimpling his face as his wits returned to him.

"Concentrate, Mr. Kennedy!" she chastised, though a small grin touched the corner of her lips as well.

His breath was hot against her face, his lips too close to hers for her own concentration. She'd been in worse scrapes than this before but she'd never had to worry about the well being of others. She squirmed slightly, testing her arms and Kennedy's grin widened as he inquired as to what she was doing.

"Don't be stupid, I'm getting us out of this," was her sharp reply. She moved her legs so they rested on his sturdy right hip, slightly bent at the knee.

"Kinky," Archie teased her. "Can we try this again once we've returned to the Indy?"

An impatient glare was all he received from her as she again began to move. She undulated her shoulders until they seemed almost as if they were out of place and began to work her bound wrists down beneath her bottom. She warned that she wanted no fresh comments from him as she folded the bottom half of the legs against the top half, the heels of her feet touching the balls of her palms. With small little light hops and a little hissing in pain, she scrunched her body up tight as she could and worked her binding over her feet, then over her legs. She relaxed into her previous position; her body stretched out against his her hands this time in front.

"And how's this going to help?" Archie questioned.

"I can't untie myself if I can't see what I'm doing," Troy sighed irritably. "They may be fantastic plunderers and murderers but when it comes to tying knots, they're real bollocks at being seamen, especially when they're drunk." She began to squirm again, not watching where her hands were going just concerned with slipping the rope off her wrists. Accidentally, she brushed against the inside of his thigh and... She paused, going completely still feeling the stiffened swell within his breeches. "What's that?" she asked incredulously.

"What do you think it is?" he replied devilishly, flushing but retaining his roguish grin. "Oh Christ, I can't help it," he said defensively as she shot him a stern glower, "with all your wriggling about. It would happen to any healthy man in my situation!"

"Do I have to remind you our lives out in danger?!" she chided, though she giggled a little as he brushed up against her again. "Cheeky bugger! And I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman; the good Lieutenant K. indeed! I've known pirates better behaved than you and Lieutenant Hornball."

"You didn't seem to mind it when either of us came to you," Archie smirked slyly, brushing against her once again. "Especially Horatio, unless you were merely chastising him with your Dear Lawd's and Sweet Jesus's heard from half way across the ship."

"On the contrary," she snickered, "was he who was giving me the tongue lashing." She sighed frustratedly realizing he was only serving to distract her. "Archie, I have to focus!" Finally, the knot slipped and her hands were freed. She slipped the shoulder ropes up over their heads; their hip ropes down over their legs, undid the binding at her feet and then began on Archie's.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"... over the side of the ship," Horatio only half heard Mr. Bracegirdle telling the Captain through his anger and frustration. His fists were curled so tightly, his short fingernails were leaving half moon marks in his palm and blood was beginning to bead in the ruts. Dammit, why had he left her? If he had stayed just a moment longer, maybe she would be safe now.

And Archie, his friend, his brother, why did he have to be the Officer of the Watch? Somehow, Horatio wanted blame himself for it all, the fact that his friends were in danger, his lover. How softly she had pleaded for him to stay; and now to think, those might be the last words he ever heard from her beautiful mouth. No, he couldn't think that way, couldn't even suppose his last chat with Archie had been in anger! Christ, why weren't they doing anything?! He noticed Captain Pellew's face had darkened severely.

"So the Phantasm continues to steer us and we continue to obey," the Captain's tanned weather beaten brow wrinkled. "Either we will hear demands from them in return for restoring to us our officers and crewmen or we will discover the full force of their bargain with the Devil when we reach where they choose to guide us to. Keep watches on her nonstop, Mr. Bracegirdle," he told his First Lieutenant, indicating the hazy shape on the horizon, the darkened for that earned the vessel its name: Phantasam. "I want to know her every move, every shift however slight it may be. If she tries to communicate, inform me immediately."

This was followed by an `aye aye, sir' and a few barked commands.

"Mr. Hornblower, come." Pellew led him to his cabin and closed the door firmly behind him. He sat at his desk and Horatio followed, standing at attention before him. "At ease," the Captain barked and Horatio relaxed somewhat. "Mr. Hornblower, I know this must be very trying for you..."

Horatio started. Did his captain know of his relations with Troy? He colored considerably, realizing that nothing happened aboard the Indy without at least three others knowing of it, the walls were thin and quarters close, and the men bored enough to gossip on anything. If someone had overheard them...

"Mr. Kennedy is a close friend is he not?"

Horatio breathed a visible sigh of relief. "Yes, sir, he is." He emphasized the 'is', not even daring to think on the 'was.'

Pellew rubbed his chin absently. "Quite," he said quietly. "Miss Alleyn and her shipmates prove to be another challenge. They are privateers, in service of the crown and as thus I cannot turn away from them either, not with any honor. Besides, I've grown quite fond of them and would take it somewhat amiss if any harm should befall them. As, I believe," he arched an eyebrow at his young lieutenant and Horatio couldn't be sure but he thought he detected a hint of a smirk passing the captain's lips, "would we all."


	10. Chapter 10

"Styles, are you awake?" Archie hissed a low whisper.

"Aye, sir," the dazed man replied, "though I'm still a bit woozy from the blow." Archie could see the clotted and dried blood thick in the rough long hair and nodded as Troy untied them. "I think Ben took the worst of it, sir."

Archie focused his eyes in the dim light of the room on the crumpled, lifeless form of the midshipman Styles had been bound to; it didn't look promising. Finally liberated from his bonds Styles sat up and rubbed his wrists gratefully with a tip of his head to Troy, "Ta, mum."

"What are we going to do with him?" Archie asked, nodding towards Ben.

Troy shook her head gravely. "There's nothing we can do for him, he'd only slow us down."

"Well, we can't just leave him to their mercy!" Archie replied, shocked.

"Better him than us!" Troy answered in turn. "Listen, I haven't even got a plan to get us off of here yet! And suppose we should manage to sneak to deck without being noticed, and to a boat, where will we go? We've no idea where we are, how far out we are from the Indefatigable or from land."

"Begging your pardon, sir, but I think she's right," Styles tentatively addressed Kennedy. Troy gave Archie a smug yet triumphant punch in the shoulder to which he let out a wounded yelp and frowned at her deeply. Styles continued, "But it occurs to me I can carry the lad easy. He weighs naught more than the hard work I'm used to doing. I can sling him over me shoulder no sweat off my back."

"Do it," Archie nodded. Troy had already moved to the door and was fooling with the lock. Archie joined her as Styles hoisted the unconscious middie over his shoulder. "Can you do it?"

Troy snorted indignantly, "Of course I can! There isn't a lock yet that I haven't been able to persuade to open for me." The rusted old thing made a whining sound as it reluctantly turned over and snapped open. "Example," she said, smiling brightly as she turned her face to Archie's. "You two, er, three make your way to deck. They're probably all drunk as lords if I know my brother's crew, disarming a few to arm yourselves should prove easy. Find a boat and make off..."

"What about you then?" Styles asked coming up behind them.

"Don't think on me, I've got to find Welles and Poolie before I leave," she responded. "I'll be after you shortly, I can handle my brother, I know his tricks," she told them as they crept out into the deserted hallway. She breathed a sigh of relief, finding no guards on either end of the corridor. "Keep to the shadows and make naught a sound."

"I can't just leave you!" Archie hissed, grabbing her arm.

"You can and you will," she said stubbornly, shaking off his grip. "You won't leave your midshipman and I won't leave the men of my father's crew! Now go before I have Styles take you over his other shoulder and drag you off!" Archie sighed, recognizing the resolute glimmer in her keen eyes. Really, her and Horatio were so alike; both damned infuriatingly obstinate, especially when they knew they were right. Archie nodded his concurrence. "Styles, you take good care of him," she whispered as they started off down opposite sides of the hallway and Archie got the distinct feeling she wasn't talking about Ben.

"Aye aye, mum," Styles nodded with a grin, giving her a small salute, knuckles to the forehead. "And good luck to yerself." Archie grabbed her quickly and gave her a warm, soft kiss on the cheek, letting the tip of his tongue skim lightly against her salty flesh, which he claimed was `for luck'. With that the two parties disappeared into the darkness on either side of the corridor.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Troy knew the feeling, the strange, uneasy wrenching sensation in the pit of her stomach; she was walking into a trap. Why else would Dawg have kept Glasspoole and Welles separate from the rest but to lure her into whatever sick trap he had waiting. And the ease of her movements about the ship only served to sharpen her suspicions. But she didn't need to escape, as a matter of fact she wasn't expecting to, all she had to do was distract her brother long enough to give Archie and Styles a good chance at flight. She only hoped it was enough. Knowing her brother as she did, the sot would probably fall for it too.

She knew where they'd be, the exact room where the bastard had held her and her father prisoner years ago, deep in the heart of his personal chambers. She found the door unlocked, her stomach suddenly doing horrendous flip-flops trying to warn her of impending danger. She ignored it when she saw her shipmates, bound to a powder keg and gagged, sitting in the dead center of the room. They tried desperately to warn her, to tell her to turn back and run for her life but she knew what she was walking into and it was too late now. As she took a step forward into the room, the lantern hanging from the ceiling swinging with the current, casting ominous foreboding shadows upon the floor, the door swung shut behind her and she felt his intimidating presence at her back. She heard the cock of a pistol. "I knew you wouldn't leave them," Dawg snarled through yellowed teeth. "Even if you knew you were strolling into my snare. You always did have bigger balls than us all, even if your brain didn't quite match up."

She heard his nasty chuckle right before he pushed her to the ground, placing a boot on her back, pinning her to the floor. "Welcome home, little sister."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Horatio couldn't sleep. They'd spent the entire day watching Phantasm mock them from the horizon, an entire day of him agonizing over Troy and Archie, wondering on them. Now as he lay in his bunk, he found himself unable to resist thoughts of the previous night; the feel and smell of Troy's small body against his, her sweet cries of ecstasy as he slowly and deliberately made merry on her body. The taste of her on his tongue, the touch of her surprisingly soft skin beneath his fingertips, his hands in her feathery hair.

He tried to push the thoughts from his mind but every time he tried to close his eyes to rest they came back to haunt him with a vengeance. And then there was the matter of the angry words exchanged with Kennedy. How petty they seemed now, especially in the aftermath of his and Troy's love making and her heart felt confession of her feelings for him.

Ah, and another difficulty. It was plain that though they loved each other fiercely, or he believed they did for he hadn't ever really experienced such a sensation beforehand, there was no way for them to remain together. He was an officer in His Majesty's Navy, and Troy, well, her situation was unique. She would not settle, she would not build house and hearth for him to come home to every eight months or so, into her waiting arms and stand by the docks with teary eyes to see him off when duty called him again. He had no clue as to her plans now that her father was lost but one thing was clear to him: she had salt water running through her veins every bit as much as he. She was a child of the sea; it's where she belonged and she would wither up and die without it, nor could he imagine her taking kindly to the idea of him even suggesting she give it up. He wondered vaguely if this is what it was like for all those Navy wives who watched their husbands go, not knowing when or if they'd ever see them again. A soft knock on his wardroom door jarred him from his state of half dreaming. "Come," he said hoarsely.

Mr. Bracegirdle entered, an unreadable expression on his face. "The Captain wants all officers on deck," he told him. "They've contacted us, they want a ransom for Lieutenant Kennedy, Mr. Harrison and Mr. Styles."

Horatio frowned, not bothering in his unguarded state to even attempt to mask his concern. "And what of Miss Alleyn and her shipmates?"

Bracegirdle sighed regretfully; he had been hoping this would come up later rather than sooner. "They claim they've been killed, some sort of pirate idea of recompense or some such thing." Horatio clearly looked crestfallen yet hopeful, his dark brow furrowing furiously though a spark of optimism remained in his large brown eyes. "The Captain does not believe it to be so," Bracegirdle added, trying to console the young lieutenant. "There is still hope to be had. Come now, the Captain needs you up on deck." Horatio just nodded dully. His world had just fallen about him in shattered pieces.


	11. Chapter 11

It was worse than Horatio had imagined. As he gazed at the horizon he saw not one ship but two: one clearly identifiable as the Phantasm, the other obvious for it was flying Spanish colors; a Spanish galleon with a broadside to match the Indy's. A black pit of despair twisted within his stomach as his brow furrows ever more deeply.

"Indeed, Mr. Hornblower," Pellew said grimly catching the dire expression on his youthful officer's face, "the sheep, I fear, have reached their destination and we are them. I have a suspicion that," he gestured towards the ships in the distance, "is just the beginning. If we do not engage them now, I believe we will stand no chance once their reinforcements arrive, for battle or for retreat."

"We will not run while we have the opportunity then?" Horatio asked, a note of relief in his voice.

"I will not leave my men behind, Mr. Hornblower," Sir Edward confirmed, with a stern, unamused smile twisting his face. "Any of them," he punctuated with a decisive nod. "So it is to be war. Prepare to engage the enemy," he barked a command and everyone began to scuffle about in an organized but hurried fashion.

"Sir, is it your belief that Miss Alleyn and her crewmates are alive?" Horatio ventured tentatively.

"It is, Mr. Hornblower," replied the Captain firmly, "and it is my intention to retrieve them as well as my crewmen if at all possible. Though I do believe that Miss Alleyn is quite capable of extracting herself from almost any situation she might find herself in," he added with a wry smile.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Archie and Styles had been easily able to liberate a few drunken pirates, in their inebriated stupor, of their weapons; Styles took two pistols though carrying Ben over one shoulder made it impossible to use both at once, and Archie a pistol and an old blood stained dagger. The ease of their escape from the lower levels of the ship to the deck left Kennedy unsettled. Granted, the ship's foul crew lived up to its reputation as a bunch of disgusting, inebriated roughs, but where was the cunning, the ruthless sharpness that came with years of experience at pirating?

Archie was glad to get out in the open again, rinse his lungs of the putrid stench of the ship's quarters. Early morning blue sky filled his vision and a surprisingly warm breeze touched his cheeks as they sneaked around the mostly passed-out crew. Then his heart wrenched; he caught sight of the Spanish galleon. So, Troy's brother was working for the Dagos. Suddenly, Kennedy felt a certain sense of despair for their escape; if the pirates didn't spot them fleeing, the Spanish surely would.

"Looks like the Dagos beat the Indy to us," Styles whispered in his ear.

A knot was forming in Archie's heart when he felt the cold steel of a pistol at the back of his neck, making his hair stand on end.

"Did'nea really think you'd 'scape so easily?" a chilling, self-satisfied voice asked from behind him.

Styles looked to Archie, catching him in the eye as he fingered the pistol hidden within his waistband. Kennedy gave him a small nod. If he was going to die he was going to take a few of these bastards with him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I am becoming extremely vexed," Troy said sternly but calmly as Dawg tightened the ropes around her wrists until the sensitive flesh burned, tying her to the barrel with Welles and Glasspoole. She watched him with seething hatred as he pulled up another barrel just out of her legs reach and sat down upon it facing her, grinning. She made an excruciating scraping noise within her throat, shifted its contents to her mouth and spat it at him, hitting him right above the eye patch that covered his left eye. He removed the rough black cloth revealing a deep purpled scar and an empty eye socket as he wiped the spittle away with his sleeve. "As handsome as ever," she snorted. "Should've taken your head while he had the chance, not just the eye."

"Father always did have a ridiculously over-developed sense of honor and loyalty," Dawg sneered. "You know he would never have killed me."

"And yet it was you that brought the Dagos down on the The Elizabeth Anne," she replied contemptuously. "Tell me, how much did you sell our lives for? A keg of Spanish rum, a few gold pieces?"

"You were worth less to me," he jeered. "As was our dear mother when I ran her through as she lay abed."

"Pig," she spat out. "You did a deal with the Devil, how does it feel? And what's the pay-off? Lure The Indefatigable into an entire Spanish armada? You give them too little credit. Their captain is a very intelligent man, he'll see through it right away mark my word."

As if to punctuate her words, the sudden sound of canon fire broke the stagnant air. She smiled, watching as a small shadow of panic shaded her brother's face then quickly passed. Warmth filled her; Horatio was coming for her, she knew it and soon she'd be in his strong arms again.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kennedy jumped in surprise. As Styles fired his pistol, hitting Archie's captor straight between the eyes, a louder noise cracked the silence; canon fire. The ball sailed far wide and hit the water with a mighty great splash between Phantasm and the Spanish galleon, The Senora de las Estrellas, sending crewmen on both ships scrambling in alarm.

"It's the bloody Indy!" Styles laughed, running to the side of the ship and peering over. Archie joined him, smiling as he shaded his eyes against the golden rising sun to see the familiar form of The Indefatigable fast approaching from the distance; they had a good wind behind them and would soon be upon Phantasm and Estrellas. "Bastards'll have a fight on their hands now!" Styles grinned.

"C'mon, Styles," Archie grinned, "what say we help a bit, eh?"

"Aye, sir." That was the kind of order Styles loved to follow.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Run out the guns again," Horatio commanded loudly. "Remember to aim between the ships, we don't want to hole them before we get our officers back safe and sound," and, he added to himself, his saucy little beauty Troy.

"Fih-yah!"

The canon exploded in a puff of foul smelling smoke, kicking back about a foot as it fired its shot. Horatio watched on determinedly, his brow furrowing darkly. Somewhere, on one of those two ships, were the two people who meant the most to him, the two people he'd sacrifice the world to see safe and sound again. And he'd get them back, even if it meant him diving to the bottom of the ocean for them, even if it killed him.

He'd already risked his life for both of them; Kennedy countless times and Archie'd returned the favor again and again, and Troy, he'd almost gotten himself killed rescuing her _before_ he'd even met her and now that he had... Well, he wouldn't let her go, not this easily, not this quickly. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he'd have to eventually, but not now, not like this. He waited until the gun was ready again and gave the order once more to fire.


	12. Chapter 12

Glasspoole said something against his muffling gag which ended up sounding more like a grunt than a sentence but somehow Troy understood what he'd meant. Dawg had left minutes ago, trying not to look worried and succeeding to all but his very own blood and kin, who could recognize the look of alarm in his eyes from a mile away.

In his haste, he had neglected to leave a guard. It was time to take advantage of the situation. She shook her leg until a heavy slender object slipped from her boot; a knife. Lucky thing she'd spotted it in Dawg's waistband and so satisfied was he with himself at having brought her back to Phantasm, he hadn't even noticed her slip it from him and into her boot when he was lifting her from the floor where he'd knocked her and tying her to the barrel.

Only one problem: the knife had fallen just beyond her reach. She used her other foot to work her boot off and her bare foot stretched out desperately to grasp the tarnished jewel encrusted handle with her nimble toes. Welles made a boisterous sound of frustration as the thing slipped from her shaky grip and slid an extra foot away. She was now straining to reach it with just the tips of her toes. Finally, success. She curled her foot around it and drew the knife towards her. Luck had once again been on their side when Dawg had overlooked the binding of her legs. She was able to easily slip it up against her body where her hand gladly relieved her foot of the object. She smiled, nodding towards Glasspoole who looked at her with something akin to blind pride in his dark eyes. Hurriedly she began to work the blade across the ropes that restrained her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hell had broken loose aboard The Phantasm. A crew from The Indy had managed to board her and was fighting viciously as Spanish soldiers began to pour from the deck of The Estrellas. Wood ran crimson with blood as Archie and Styles fought their way through the swelling throng of panicked bodies. Kennedy felt a hand on his shoulder and turned quickly, a pistol at the ready cocked and set to fire when he recognized Troy's diminutive form through the sanguineous haze.

"Good Gawd," she shouted at him over the din of shouting voices and firing guns, "I thought you were getting out of here!"

"I can say the same of you! I tried," he responded, "but as you can see, things became... complicated!" He lowered his voice somewhat, gently, just quietly enough that she felt the words reverberate throughout her warmly more than she heard him say them, "I am glad to see you're alright."

She smiled. "We'll have plenty of time to share pleasantries later, Lt. K.! That's a promise." She looked around and removed a bloodied cutlass from a fallen Spaniard's chest. She spun it in her hand, getting the feel for it; it's weight, the way it moved. "Have you seen Dawg? We have some... unfinished family business to take care of."

A shot fired without warning so close to her she could smell the potent stench of the powder. She turned to see a Dago, poised to cut her down, his sword still raised above his head, falling and crumpling up upon the deck. Turning back she saw Styles, his pistol still smoking, still aimed at where her attacker had stood only seconds ago. He nodded to her grimly and she flashed him a brilliant grin, "I do believe you would make a fantastic pirate, Mr. Styles!"

"Thankee, mum," he replied allowing himself a small, satisfied smirk. "And if it's the captain of this accursed vessel your lookin' fer, he went over to the Dago ship as soon as this uproar started. Turned coward if ye asked me, turned tail and made a run fer it."

"My brother? Never," she replied in disgust. "He's running to where the crew isn't drunk and the broadside more capable. He's probably killed the damned Dago captain by now, if I know Dawg at all, and taken his ship." There was an unfathomable fire in her eyes, an undeniable passion and bloodlust as she told them, "I am going over there. I will end this once and for all."

Archie considered arguing with her but then thought the better of it as he gazed upon the frighteningly determined look on her darkened brow and in her blazing eyes.

"The Phantasm will fall to The Indy, it's inevitable and my brother will die by my hand." With that she spun on her heel, barked orders at Glasspoole and Welles, the latter who stayed to help Kennedy and Styles, the former who followed her as she disappeared into the surging crowd.

"Good luck to ye," Styles muttered as he watched them go, then turned and resumed his battle with Archie and Welles at his side.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Horatio boarded Phantasm with fury in his eyes and in his heart. Instantly, he cut down three pirates who stood in his way with his sword and downed a fourth with his pistol. He was unmovingly focused and the images before him seemed to blur as they moved out of his line of sight. There were quite a few Indy men on deck now, fighting within an inch of their lives, but even as he himself fought through the chaotic swarm of sweaty bodies his eyes searched for one thing and one thing only: Troy.

Every time he spotted a fallen boy who resembled her in the slightest, his heart leapt from his chest only to calm when he turned the body over to discover that it was not in fact his beautiful pirate lass. He was relieved to see Archie battling violently with Styles and Welles at his side, and disturbed to see that the young midshipman Ben Harrison seemed to be dead or unconscious. He couldn't tell though Styles seemed to be protected him viciously so Horatio rather suspected the boy still lived.

"Mr. Kennedy," he shouted, a note of the release of grief evident in his voice.

Archie flashed him a brilliant white smile, his sparkling blue eyes twinkling with danger, "Glad to see you could join the party, Mr. Hornblower. As you can see we've had our hands full."

"Where is she?" Horatio asked resolutely, cutting down another pirate that dared to challenge him as if it were an afterthought. Archie didn't even have to inquire as to whom his friend was referring to; he knew. He nodded towards Estrellas. Horatio's throat went dry. The last order he'd heard Pellew give before he'd departed to board Phantasm was to concentrate fire on the Spanish galleon. It'd be destroyed any time now, on its way to the ocean floor, rent in pieces. "Damn fool of a woman!" he spat out angrily. "What the hell is she doing there?!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The deck shuddered under Troy's feet as searched for signs of her brother aboard The Senora de las Estrellas. She knew it was only a matter of time before the limping vessel foundered, so little time she had to find Dawg and dispose of him for good. Everywhere around her the Dagos were evacuating paying her little to no attention except for the occasional curious glances they threw her way. They were just scared little boys eager to live through their first battle and she had no fight with them nor they with her; all the real aggressors had already gone over to The Phantasm to join the fray. Those who hadn't Glasspoole was disposing of, keeping them out of her way. She tightened her grip on the cutlass and shifted her leg in her boot slightly just to feel the comforting weight of the dagger she'd stolen from her brother against her ankle.

It wasn't hard to locate Dawg; all she had to do was follow the carnage, the severed and decapitated bodies he always left in his wake. The deck shuddered again and she could practically feel the ship breaking apart beneath her; she took a minute to steady herself before calling out her challenge: "Come and face me like a man, you yellow bastard! Or are you too much of a coward to fight your small, weak little girl of a sister?"

The provocation proved to be too much for Dawg, as she'd suspected. He came swinging down from where ever he'd been perching like a bird of prey and landed mere feet away from her, drawing his gore caked sword with a grimy smile.

"You called me, baby sister? Do you really think you're a match for me?"

"We're about to see, aren't we?" she said calmly.

Letting out a furious cry she charged him, swinging her cutlass frantically. Raising his sword to meet hers with a mighty clash, he blocked her downward blow. She lunged again, this time at his right shoulder and was again blocked; this time with such force it knocked her backwards, leaving her open for attack. Suddenly she found herself on the defense against his powerful blows. Her hands and arms ached with the exertion of keeping hold of the cutlass under the intense strain of his tremendous strength as he connected strike after strike, the metal blades of their swords sparking each time they impacted.

Suddenly, the moment came. She saw it an instant before it happened, sensing its imminent approach. With a heavy backhanded slash he knocked the cutlass from her hand, slicing into the flesh of her wrist as he did so. She collapsed to her knees, grasping at her wound as blood trickled through her fingers, looking up at him in dreadful anticipation.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Horatio watched in horror as Dawg sliced the cutlass from Troy's grip, as she fell before him. He felt so far away, as if there were miles between them and he was helpless to do anything to help her as The Phantasm drifted farther away, hoping to avoid injury during inevitable demise of the Estrellas. He felt sick, angered, as Dawg raised his sword and plunged it into her. Dammit, there had to be something he could do, he couldn't just stand there and watch the woman he loved die!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dawg hoisted his sword above his head and thrust towards Troy's crumpled form. She managed to avoid the hit to a small degree, swaying to the side at the last moment and taking most of it in the shoulder. She gasped in pain as the blade ripped through her muscle and flesh. A war cry erupted wildly from behind him and calmly he turned, impaling Glasspoole, who'd run to her defense, through the heart without even batting an eye. Troy let out a sob of anguish.

"Ever been to Hell, little sister?" he sneered turning back to her, preparing for the fatal strike.

"No," she said with enraged determination, discreetly and covertly reaching her hand into her boot. She lifted her eyes until they met his, smoky hazel to one almost solid black, and her lips curved in disdain as her fingers curled around her hidden dagger's hilt. "Do tell me what it's like when you get there, won't you?"

She drew the dagger quickly before he had time to react, plunging it into his heart with adrenaline induced force. She relished the look of surprise that flooded his dark eyes in the moment life drained from his body and he fell limply on the deck beside her. So furried was her mind with the rush of the kill, so dazed by the loss of blood from her wound, that the final splintering canon shot that tore the ship apart was no more than a loud indistinct pounding in her head. She felt herself sliding downwards and only the shockingly cold of the water as she broke its tumultuous surface was able to bring her back to her wits.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Horatio didn't need to think. The Estrellas exploded before him, knocking him and those aboard Phantasm off their feet as it sent violent shock waves through the air. He saw Troy for a moment, loosely gripping a shattering section of the deck, blood matting her usually feather soft brown hair. Then she was gone, slipping from his sight, from him, forever and his world lurched around him.

He acted; thoughts of Troy the only thing running through his head. Stripping off his jacket he dove into the water; its frigidity prickled his skin. He swam madly among the wreck's flotsam, searching for her, for any sign of her. A chill took his heart. The ocean was littered with bodies; but he'd know if any were her, he'd know it in his heart and his heart remained hopeful. He was aware the further he ventured towards the wreck, the more dangerous it became; he could have been pulled under, gotten his ankle twisted in a loose rigging and dragged below the surface but he was beyond caring. He gave a small cry of relief when he spotted Troy bobbing up and down in the dark green water and, swimming over to her with the last of his strength, swept her aching body into his arms. She gladly accepted his embrace resting her cheek upon his shoulder.

"I thought I'd lost you," he said softly, his voice breaking in an unusual show of emotion.

She laughed exhaustedly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "It's not that easy to get rid of me. Haven't you figured that out yet, Lieutenant Hornblower?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be the least slash-oriented threesome in the history of fandom; it is what it is. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it, as that was the author's intention!

A cool breeze gently caressed Troy's cheeks as softly as a kiss as it blew her short fine hair across her forehead. The moon was low and heavy, a yellowed disk shimmering its reflection upon the calm waters of the ocean. She leaned across the railing of The Phantasm, gazing up at the blazing stars burning in the clear night sky, recognizing and taking comfort in all the familiar shapes and constellations her father had taught her as a girl.

It had been a week since she fought her brother to the death, a week since she'd lost one of her dearest and oldest friends, Mr. Glasspoole, a week since she'd declared herself the captain of Phantasm by blood right and renamed her The Elizabeth Alleyn, a most peculiar honor for the namesake of a mother Dawg had killed and Troy had barely even known. Most of his band had gone along with it, out of fear or out of respect; Dawg had not been generally liked among his crewmen. The ones who hadn't had been turned over to Pellew and The Indefatigable as prisoners of war. Now the stink of the lower decks, that was something different; it was going to take a long time to clear away the rancid stench Dawg had left behind.

She felt strong arms enfold her from behind and leaned back into the embrace, pressing herself gratefully against Horatio's sturdy chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent; the masculine tang of his perspiration mingled with the perfume of his desire. He lifted her hair with one hand and planted small wet kisses along the sweat glistened nape of her neck.

His long commanding fingers slipped into her shirt and found the bandage on her shoulder that concealed the wound Dawg had given her, messaging tenderly. "It feels better, Horatio," she assured him, though it was somewhat of a lie. There was no more pain, but a dull ache had seemed to set in as the laceration healed.

He lifted her hand to where Dawg had cut her and kissed it lightly. "I'd still like to check the wrapping, love."

She turned in his arms adopting her stubborn disposition once more, poking him firmly in the shoulder with one finger. " _I_ have already checked the wrappings, as has your Dr. Hepplewhite. They were clean."

"Still," he said innocently, though his luminous eyes betrayed his sly wickedness as he worked her shirt down her shoulder, "I'd like to change the bandages myself."

He slipped his hand inside her shirt and she gasped at the feel of his fingertips against her bare skin. He put his lips to her neck again and began to suck and nibble the sensitive flesh, his hot breath making her quiver with excitement as he whispered to her, "Have you forgotten the last time I changed your wrappings? You had no objections then."

She shivered. Yes, she remembered. He had massaged and stroked her sore muscles, with his hand and with his mouth, until she'd almost run mad! The tip of his tongue found the delicate shell of her ear and thrust inside. She groaned and pressed her body more firmly into his, feeling the swelling lust in his breeches strain against the compliant softness between her thighs. He ground his hips against hers longingly, murmuring the abstract sounds of his want. Desperately he tugged at the coarse material of her shirt until he exposed her breast to the cool night air, puckering its soft pink peak with the help of his clever fingers, pinching and playing until it was a hard little nub beneath his fingertips. Cupping her buttocks in his large hands he lifted her up slightly so her behind rested lightly on the railing and ran his tongue along the outside of the blossoming bud before drawing it into his mouth in a long moist sucking kiss, devouring her voraciously. He felt and behaved so wantonly when he was with her; he had no thought of consequences or social graces. The world revolved around Troy and her beautiful accommodating body. He lost his inhibitions with her; there was nothing but the alluring scent of sex on her skin filling his every sense.

She moaned, her gray eyelashes fluttering against her sunburned cheeks as she twisted her fingers in his hair and enfolded his waist with her legs, eager to feel the hardened length of him thrusting inside of her. Electricity shot through her veins with every teasing flick of his tongue, every greedy sup of his full sensuous lips. He wrapped his arms protectively around her, pulling her closer into his ravenous kiss.

"We have to say our farewells tonight," he said, the warm dew of his mouth's wetness glistening with moonlight on her exposed flesh. "The Indy sails by dawn's light."

She closed her eyes tightly. How she hadn't wanted this to come up! An entire week she'd practically had him all to herself as they had sailed to a safe cove out of harms way to settle affairs and prepare to sail again under her new captaincy, and The Indy had stayed with them to help in ant way they could. He'd often boarded Elizabeth Alleyn to dote over her injuries, to pamper her and, most deliciously of all, chastise her when she was being difficult and stubborn, which was often (with tact enough to do all of this in privacy of her cabin so her crew lost none of the reverence or fear she'd made damn well sure they felt towards her). She'd wanted it to stay that way, pushing all thoughts of his unavoidable departure from her brain. It was called denial and she knew it.

"I adore you, Horatio," she told him breathlessly as she stimulated his scalp with her fingertips until it tingled and he purred with approval. "We have all night to say good-bye. Take me now, here, Horatio. I want to feel you inside me so badly."

She felt him smile against her soft skin as he shook his head slowly, seductively. "There's someone else who wants to say good-bye. Come to your cabin, I have a surprise for you." She frowned suspiciously. His grin was so devilish, so deviant, so depraved, it made her skin erupt in gooseflesh and her senses spin as he took her hand and led her like a innocent little girl. She was reminded suddenly of the big bad wolf leading little red riding hood unawares from the brightly lit path to the naughty thick darkness of the forest.

"What are you up to, Horatio?" she asked warily, a coy smile beginning to spread across her lips as excitement prickled the back of her neck.

He just put his fingers to her mouth to quiet her as he pushed open the door to her cabin. She started in surprise when she saw Archie sitting by the window, gazing out at the husky darkness of night, his feet bare, his white frilly shirt hanging loosely about him revealing in part the brawny expanse of his broad muscular chest and the crisp covering of blond hair that lay upon it. He turned his bright blue eyes towards them as they entered and grinned lustily.

"Surprise," Horatio whispered in her ear as he secured the door behind them. Her heart beat wildly as realization came slowly to her. They weren't really thinking on... They couldn't be, could they?

Horatio turned her face to his and captured her lips in a hungry passionate kiss as she felt Archie approach her from behind and encircle her waist with his solid strong hands. A violent chill ran up her spine as Kennedy nuzzled her hair aside and pressed his mouth to her neck, his tongue gently skirting the dampened skin. The blood rushed from her head to her womb feeling two sets of curious hands gliding over her body, the two men pressed firmly into her making it impossible to tell where one ended and the other began; or where she ended and began for that matter. Molten hot wetness seeped from her core, dampening the crotch of her pants. Kennedy's nuzzling mouth upturned into a smile as he made this discovery, working one thick hand between her thighs and cupping her there.

"Horatio," she muttered, breaking their kiss in shock, rubbing herself against Archie's hand like a cat with a small gasp.

Horatio just put his thumb to her passion-swollen lips and with a wicked grin, outlined them with his broad tongue. She felt her sensitive nipples pebble solidly against the abrasive fabric of her shirt. Her senses lurched aggressively as Horatio reached underneath the cloth and cupped one of the eager mounds, fitting it neatly into the palm of his big hand, kneading it gently, tantalizing the plump hard peak with his fingertips.

She felt Archie's hand on her chin, turning her lips to his and kissing her with a slow, seductive languor. This was almost too much for Troy, she felt as if she'd melt right there and then under the heat of her two lovers' attentions. Somehow, she realized, they'd gotten her over to the bed and had begun stripping off her clothes, touching and tasting every new inch of flesh they exposed with inquisitive and ardent interest. Once she was completely naked they laid her down on the mattress and joined her, one on either side of her.

Horatio continued to delight her with kisses as Archie's deft fingers caressed her rounded belly, dipping into her navel playfully before descending to the smooth softness of her thighs and the patch of soft brown curls between them. He petted and stroked her with skillful fingers until she was moving against his hand, gasping her pleasure into Horatio's mouth. Archie's fingers dipped inside causing her to cry out and throw her arms around Horatio's neck tightly, holding him close to her as Kennedy explored the slick silky skin of her womanhood, finding the nubbin of flesh within her moist folds that made her insane with desire. He rolled the tight bud between his fingers, making her writhe beneath his touch.

She gazed up at Horatio adoringly as he continued to drink of her lips, the dark brown pools of his eyes smoldering with yearning and hunger, and she knew that this was him, it had been his idea, to give her as much pleasure as he possibly could. It could only have been him. And as much as Archie was driving her crazy with his touch, Horatio was driving her absolutely mad by holding back. His kisses sent thrills up and down her spine but it was obvious he was letting Archie have most of the fun... for now. `I love you' she mouthed against his delectable lips and she felt him smile.

Through a haze of lust she felt Archie gently nudging her legs open and positioning himself between her parted thighs, running his tongue along her belly and the tender flesh of her inner thighs, messaging the undersides of her knees tenderly with rough fingers, before pressing his mouth to her sex. He parted the damp curls and dipped into her, his tongue lapping at her, supping up her hot juices. Lightening coursed through her at the feel of his lips against her, stimulating her every sense. She thrust her hands into Horatio's soft tresses and pulled him down further onto her lips. He sank into her deep wet kiss with relish, his tongue claiming her mouth as Archie's feasted on her womanhood.

Kennedy's lips and tongue were smaller than Horatio's but no less able in the art of making love. Where Horatio's long thick muscle had licked her up and filled her with ease, Archie's darted about, touching and suckling her delicious skin, knowing exactly where to stroke her to make her wild. Troy tightened her grip on Horatio and began to shudder. Sensing her impending ecstasy both Horatio and Archie intensified their attentions in a fantastically synchronized rhythm in tune to her body's instinctive gyrations. Archie grasped her hips firmly, suckling the succulent morsel of flesh hidden within the slick folds of her sex before plunging his tongue into her body's slippery entrance. Horatio's tongue followed suit, roughly thrusting into the warm wet cave of her mouth. His large hand grasped her breast, grasping its soft ample weight into his palm, his wicked slender fingers manipulating the aching nipple in time to his tongue's oral penetrations.

If it had been just her and Archie, she would have seized his head by the hair and pulled him closer into her, thrusting her hips against the naughty employment of his mouth but Horatio had her upper body pinned to the bed, feeding on the wild cries of bliss that came from her throat as fulfillment neared. As always, he was in control, this was his game just like he liked it, pleasing her to his own satisfaction and she loved him all the more for it. The fire that had started in her belly now rose and threatened to consume and incinerate her as her senses went flying about like a rubber band pulled too tightly then snapped. She'd never been tongue-fucked by two men at once and the orgasm that built within her was finally unleashed as she arched against the both of them, crying her rapture and thrashing about savagely as waves of gratification washed over her again and again.

When she came back to herself again, Kennedy was lying next to her, licking his lips with lecherous appreciation. She smiled at him dazedly, running her hand through his blond hair that turned to a lovely copper under the soft glow of candlelight. He kissed her lips, letting her taste the tang of her own desire upon his lips as Horatio kissed and nuzzled her breasts voraciously, lapping at her distended nipples with his tongue, which managed to feel both titillating abrasive as sandpaper and as smooth as silk at the same time. He moved down between her provocatively spread thighs and took her into his mouth. Her tender flesh was still throbbing with the force of her release when she felt that magnificent long, supple tongue fill her.

It was Archie's turn to delight her mouth as Horatio devoured her, satiating himself on the nectar of her desire. She never knew anything could feel so wonderfully wicked as what they were doing to her, the web of delectation they were tangling her in deeper and deeper, like a fly trapped as prey by two particularly wanton spiders. Gazing down through half lidded eyes at Horatio's head moving between her legs, his feathery soft curls tickling her bare skin and his fathomless brown eyes gazing up at her seductively and attentively, she was reminded again of the Big Bad Wolf; `The better to eat you all up'. He used his teeth to gently nibble at her while his tongue consumed her. Her hips began to rock against him when he put his tongue inside of her and his answering groan of satisfaction reverberated against her sensitized flesh, sending shockwaves throughout her. Too soon she felt the sparks of her climax igniting along her spine, exploding within her sex and setting off the fireworks inside her brain. She cried out desperately, seeing her own passion in vibrant swirling colors before her eyes. He stayed between her legs as she orgasmed, lapping up her come as her muscles convulsed around him.

As the ripples began to calm within her, she noticed the two men had vacated the bed in order extricate themselves from their clothing. She felt like a little girl in a sweet shop, looking from one to the other as they stripped away their garments revealing the divine bodies beneath. Archie was broad, sturdy, his thick muscles showing obviously beneath his sun kissed skin. She watched as he stripped off his breeches, the dim candlelight glowing warmly across the golden dusting of hair that adorned his chest and flat stomach and ran temptingly to his groin. There his extensive manhood stood, proud and erect, wickedly seductive drops of moisture glistening on its throbbing head. She'd seen it before but couldn't help being impressed all over again; nature had been mightily generous to him. He was beautiful, statuesque; like the Greek Olympians of old, or as the statues would have you believe. A fresh surge of moistness spread between her legs at the thought of him positioning those muscular thighs of his between her own.

Next, she turned her head to where Horatio stood on the opposite side of the mattress, eagerness filling her smoky eyes as she beheld the man she loved in his progressive states of undress. Her breath caught in her throat as he drew up his shirt over his head, revealing his tanned, lean yet well-muscled chest. She loved watching him as he moved, his sinew rippling like liquid beneath his smooth skin with an almost feline grace.

He undid his trousers and Troy's heart began beating wildly, like a bird's wings frantically beating against her ribcage. She'd forgotten just how beautiful he was; his long, slender muscled limbs, his powerful thighs, the inviting covering of dark coarse hair that ran from his sculpted stomach to his groin, hiding beneath it pale skin as smooth as silk. His hard cock stood firmly and imposingly from his dense nest of pubic hair, extensive in length and thick, it pulsed and grew under the heated scrutiny of her hungry gaze. The dew of his need glistened on his tip as well and his luscious lips shimmered pearlescent in the faint candle glow, still wet with the honey of her body's lust. Troy had to bite her lip to keep from groaning at the thought of touching, tasting, feeling him cum inside her.

She lay back on the bed passively, her arms over her head and her legs slightly parted, waiting to see what new dish they planned to cook up next to sate their carnal appetites. Still she was wholly unprepared when Archie grabbed her by the ankles and flipped her over on her stomach, pulling her over to his side of the bed. He snaked one powerful arm under her body and wrapped it around her waist pulling her to her hands and knees. She shivered as she felt his rough fingers fondle the insides of her thighs, coercing them apart. She spread her legs enthusiastically for him and instantly felt the tip of his hard shaft probing her soft saturated skin until he found the place to push in. He grabbed her hips and moved inside of her with a loud prolonged sigh of pleasure as her silken tunnel closed tightly around him. He began to ride her, plunging his rod deep inside of her with controlled but forceful thrusts. She bucked back against, him meeting each of his strong penetrations feeling his fingers digging into the delicate flesh of her thighs with building desperation.

Horatio wasn't contented just standing by and watching. This was *his* party, after all. As Archie worked his tool inside the slick cavern hidden within the warm folds of her sex, Horatio appeared before her, his slender fingers running through her fine hair affectionately as the throbbing head of his rigid penis brushed gently against her wind chafed cheek. He thrust his hips lightly back and forth, rubbing his organ's smooth tender cap across her cheekbone. It felt like warm moist velvet and its potent masculine fragrance filled her nostrils, making her head spin in the most delicious way. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, parting her rosy passion colored lips, licking them in anticipation of what she knew he wanted to do. She wanted it too, badly; to savor him, lick and sip him up until she felt him tremble. Her mouth watered at the thought of nursing him until she tasted his salty essence pour down her throat.

As Archie pummeled her from behind, Horatio positioned his manhood at the threshold of her mouth, pushing its glistening head inside the wet hot orifice, groaning and tangling his fingers tighter in her hair as her lips closed around it and her tongue began to flutter over and swirl around the luscious stub. She flicked the tip of her tongue back and forth against the tiny cleft at the base of the swollen summit of his steely staff, the guttural growl that ripped from his chest sending lightening bolts of excitement through her. He cupped the back of her neck with his large hand and held her in place as he thrust in, feeling the head tickle the back of her throat. He began to stroke in and out as she sucked his satiny skin with lustful abandon.

She'd never had two men inside her at the same time and the fabulous feeling of it sent her head spinning and an entire troupe of butterflies fluttering deep within her belly. The wordless animalistic sounds of pleasure coming from both men filled the room in a steady cadence while her own groans, though muffled by her oral service, vibrated against Horatio's ultra-sensitive flesh, heightening his intense delight. The heat was building to unbearable levels in her nether regions as Archie hammered his cock into her with frantic urgency until she felt her womb contract and she came, her body pulling at Kennedy as he pushed his full length as far as he could go into her softness, her muscles squeezing and milking him as he followed her over the edge with a roar, spending his wad, pumping every last drop of his seed into her. Her keening cry of fulfillment, followed by the low moan of her gratification, pushed Horatio tumbling over the precipice of rapture of which he'd been teetering on the brink of. Rolling his head back and closing his eyes, he let the sensation of Troy's fierce suckling wash over him, the muscles of his stomach jerking violently as one of her hands ran up his groin and belly, the coarse hair there tickling her fingertips as she caressed the smooth skin underneath, while the other reached around him to cup the taut muscle of his backside and pull him closer, grasping onto the one tangible thing in the spinning cloud of lascivious indulgence she was trapped in. Shudders wracked his body as she used her teeth to gently nibble at his responsive shaft while her tongue stroked him and her lips slurped his delicate flesh in long greedy sups until she tasted the droplets of his pre-come dribble from the tip. His grip on her tensed as if he'd never let her go as bright white lights and a whirlpool of thrilling colors flashed before her eyes. His body was caught in the rush of absolute ecstasy and with one last forceful thrust of his pelvis; he spilled in her mouth, shoving in deeply with each of his hot sticky ejaculations. She drank him in fervently, her lips turning up at the corners in a smile as she savored him.

They, the three of them, collapsed in a heap, a tangle of sweat slickened limbs and other body parts. Troy was breathing as if she'd just run a great distance, panting heavily as she snuggled into the virile warmth of the two men who surrounded her, practically mewling like a kitten as two sets of strong hands fondled and pet her. Horatio brushed his lips across her jaw and cheek, moving his mouth to hers; lightly at first, it deepened into a demanding, hungry kiss. When he broke away, Horatio was grinning wickedly, his slender fingers playing against the tender skin of her tummy.

"Oh my Gawd," she whispered breathlessly, realizing that this was far from over, "not only do they make you remarkably large, you're inexhaustible as well!"

She turned her head to gaze into Archie's eyes, which held the naughty gleam of a little boy who'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and was reaching in for a second helping, who was planting gentle tugging kisses along her bared shoulder.

"Sweet Jesu," she bit her lip as he seized her breast in one hand and bent his head to take the plump rosy bud between his lips, "it **must** be something they feed you! I could satisfy 12 lesser men in the time it takes to satiate one of you!"

Horatio placed his hands on her hips and moved her body until her bottom rested against the cradle of his hips. She felt him there, his rod of heated flesh firm once again and pressing into her petite backside demandingly. He chuckled, his warm breath blowing her hair and caressing the sensitive skin of her jaw. His voice was husky with want as he spoke and it sent shivers up and down her spine,

"It's my turn now, my sweet." He pulled her to her knees, keeping her back to him, his hard sculpted chest bearing into her small back, one hand around her waist, the other gripping her shoulder. She arched against him, pressing her buttocks more insistently into his pelvis, and spread her legs, feeling his ample manhood glide between them, brushing against the damp lips of her feminine core. She gave a small little gasping sigh, rubbing against him with a purr. He shifted his hips and she felt his swollen tip find the entrance to her dripping cave within the protective fleshy hood of her sex. He gave it to her gradually, inch by inch. She was so small and tight there and he so large and bulging in his need, he worried on hurting her with harsh thrust so instead he ground himself into her deliberately, gasping blissfully every time he felt her muscles clamp gratefully around him. His restraint was driving Troy insane. He started moving in her in a slow steady rhythm, withdrawing and pushing deeper into her moist lushness with each careful shove. His luscious lips teased the back of her neck, murmuring words of love to her and for her only, the musk of their joining arousing and urging him on.

After a moment of watching with lazy lecherous enthusiasm, Archie rose to his knees as well and, cupping her jaw in his hand, pressed his lips to hers, his tongue roughly claiming the softness within. His hands clutched her pert breasts and squeezed, making her cry out as he rolled the pink peaks with his thumbs. With a grin he lowered his mouth and once again took one of the sweet hard nubs into his mouth, suckling greedily one than the other. Troy couldn't help it: she came, the current sensations, Horatio riding deeply inside her womanhood and Archie's hungry devotion to her nipples, merged and melted with all the other delicious things she'd felt and experienced since Horatio had led her to this den of delectation, which had formerly been her cabin. She yelped as her orgasm ripped through her body and her muscles clenched convulsively around Horatio, her head was spinning with delight as she plunged head first into a dizzying and abiding rapture.

Horatio could no longer hold himself back, feeling her slippery skin clasp his shaft violently his penetrations became wild, barbarous. His hand wandered to the moist slit between her thighs, parting the damp curls, his fingers deftly finding the precious pearl inside, rubbing, pinching, teasing until ferocious pants flew from Troy's softly parted lips. Grasping through the overwhelming all encompassing savagery of her pleasure, she felt Archie's hands framing her face, gently urging her down. Her burning, flushed cheek brushed the crisp of blond hair upon his brawny chest as she leaned forward and he smoothly forced her head lower. The tip of her nose brushed against his belly button, then the coarse hair that adorned his flat stomach. She came to rest in the deep blond nest of his pubic hair which she nuzzled with her lips and nose, feeling the eager velvet of his erection push against the underside of her chin, its throbbing head pushing against her Adam's apple. With a knowing smile she bowed her head and swallowed him up, kissing and suckling his cock's engorged helmet before taking him fully into her mouth. His hips swayed and he lunged forward, burying himself into the wet heat of her throat. Again she felt the intense rush of having two men thrusting into her at once. The pressure between her legs became unbearable as Horatio manipulated her tense clit with his thumb and forefinger all the while ramming his rigid tool into her silken depths.

Archie's sighs deepened to growls as satisfaction neared. Sensing his impending release Troy began sucking him heavily as he pushed in and out, consuming him passionately. She tasted his first drops of seed on her tongue and took him deeply as he exploded in a white-hot torrent cascading down her throat. Finally drained to the point of fatigue, he collapsed on the bed and rolled away from the two lovers, contenting himself with watching them fuck as he stroked his own weary member.

Horatio was captivated by the sight of his penis gliding in and out of the woman he loved at the place where their bodies joined, his rod glistening with her sweet essence. He removed his long slender fingers from her sex and licked that very same essence off of them with relish. She was so beautiful, and so eager to please and receive pleasure from him, and she was his. He had no doubt of that as he plunged into her, listening to her keening cries of rapture.

She began repeating his name over and over again, rolling it over her tongue as if she were licking honey from a spoon. He pushed her flat on the bed on her stomach and covered her with the weight of his body, holding her close, binding him to her forever. The world disappeared beneath her, there was nothing real, save for the feel and smell of her man, nothing to grab onto as the largest climax of her life shattered her, splinters of delight driving into her brain. He held her, kissing her shoulder blades as he bellowed loudly and poured into her, pumping until he'd spilled his last drop into her womb. They lay still for a moment, the sound of their heavy breathing and panting the only perceptible thing in the room.

Finally Horatio moved, lifting her drained body, her limbs tired and loose like rubber as he laid her next to Archie and curled up beside her. She buried herself into their warmth, snuggling into and kissing Horatio adoringly, sending him a smile more potent in words, thanking him for doing this for her, for him. They fell asleep like that, exhausted, spent and utterly fulfilled.


	14. Chapter 14

Smiling, Archie gently disentangled himself from Troy's warm touch and shuffled to the edge of the bed, quietly collecting his clothes. The candles had burned to mere stubs about an hour ago, but in their smoldering dying glow Kennedy could see her recklessly naked body turn to Horatio, who was fast asleep lying on his back, and snuggle into him in Archie's absence, her arm curling around his best friend's chest, her face burrowing lovingly into the crook of his neck, her thighs cradling his hip.

Archie felt a sharp tug at his heart watching the two lovers. He wasn't in love with Troy, that he was sure of, but he couldn't help but be envious of Horatio, what she'd given him and what he possessed so heedlessly, Archie had only been given a small sweet taste of but it intoxicated him like the most luscious honeyed elixir. He was joyful for his friend but the craving to have her over and again he knew would never be, could never be fulfilled. Last night had been a favor from Horatio and he was grateful for it and that was that. He pulled his breeches on and leaned over to place a kiss upon the girl's cheek, still flushed pink with arousal. She stirred and turned her smoky eyes to him, grinning drowsily.

"Sleepy," she murmured, moving so she faced him. The inviting sight of her soft bare flesh sent a surge to his nether regions and he felt the beginnings of an uncomfortable swelling in his trousers.

He put her fingers to her lips. "Shhhhhh, my little pirate," he whispered. "We wouldn't want to wake Lieutenant Hornball, would we?"

She shook her head emphatically and, still grinning, she took his fingers into her mouth, suckling the tips provocatively. He groaned low in his throat, feeling his groin tighten.

"I have to get back to the Indy before anyone notices I'm missing, lovely."

She groaned, sending a shudder through him as he remembered the other delicious sounds he'd coaxed from her during the night. She ran her hand up his stomach to his chest, tangling her fingers in the coarse covering of hair there, finding the hardened nub of his dark nipple and rubbing it lightly in circles with her fingertip. His eyes fluttered closed.

"Troy, I have to leave and I'd prefer not to step aboard the Indy with an erection the size of the mainmast."

She chuckled, pulling him down for a kiss and slipping her hand between his legs, cupping the burgeoning package at the front of his trousers. She gasped in mock surprise.

"I believe it might be too late, Lieutenant K. Give us a kiss good bye then," she smiled as he gently removed her fingers from him.

He bent forward, stroking her cheek with his thumb, and she parted her lips, inviting him inward. He wanted to accept, to feel the soft touch of a woman's mouth before he was to sea again. But his eye wandered to Horatio, fast in sleep and oblivious. He felt a stab of guilt. Seeing her naked flesh in the bare candlelight, feeling the heat coming off her in waves, he wanted her; wanted to push her back down upon the mattress climb astride her and ride her to ecstasy again and again. But there lay Horatio, the man she truly loved, the man who loved her. Last night was a wonderful gift from his best friend, but there it ended; anything more would be a betrayal. A second before their lips met, Archie tipped his head up and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"Very paternal, Archie," she chuckled, pinching his chin fondly. "Now get out of here."

He grinned, collecting the rest of his garments from the floor and moving towards the cabin door. It would do well for Horatio to be alone with her when he awoke, to say good-bye to her in whatever manner he felt fit (and Archie had an inkling it would be slightly less virtuous than the peck on the brow he'd given to her) before dawn came.

"Will we meet again, Troy?"

"You can bet your life on it Mr. Kennedy," she responded with a smirk. "Now git!" she shooed him with her hand. "Back to The Indy he goes!"

Archie shot her one last beaming glance and exited. She looked back at the bed where Horatio lay in all his exposed glory, the glistening sheen of sweat that covered his lean perfectly sculptured, well-built body shimmering in the flickering golden light of the candles. She lay back, cuddling into him, resting a hand on his leanly muscular chest and nuzzling her nose into his jaw, enjoying the feel of the rough rasp of stubble there prickling her tender skin. His face looked peaceful as she ran her fingernails along the outsides of his nipples and down his breastbone, feeling his sinew draw tight beneath her light touch. His manhood lay against his thigh, enlarged and semi-erect. She bit her lip, resisting the urge to touch him, thinking on the delicious things he must be dreaming of beneath those sun kissed lids of his, behind the sensuous deep brown pools of his eyes. Was she there in his head, laying below the weight of him with her legs spread wide to receive him, her knees drawn tightly around his ribcage as he moved in her? She grinned, rubbing her inner thighs together exquisitely, feeling and delighting in the hot sticky place where his seed, still slightly wet on her now, had spilled out onto her soft skin. Responding to the feel of her snuggling so closely into him, he turned over in his slumber encircling her in his strong arms, nuzzling his face in her hair.

She sighed contentedly, wriggling against him, running her fingers through his silky sweat dampened curls. He looked so restful and serene, and yet the devilish grin of the night past was still in evidence at the corner of his full mouth. She wanted to hold him forever, for time to stop altogether just to let her revel in his warmth and his scent, the potent masculine musk that seeped ever more strongly from him in demonstration of their vigorous love making of the night past. But morning had to come and then it would be time for them to part. She kissed him softly on the eyelid, then his cheek, and then the tip of his nose.

"Wake up, wake up, sleepy head," she whispered, gently tickling his chin with her fingertip. He groaned, the deep low rumble sending a thrill through her, and smirked his wicked little boy smile sleepily, tightening his grip on her and pulling her to him, burying his nose and lips into her neck as her pert breasts pressed firmly into his chest.

"Morning already?" he murmured, kissing her throat, his tongue skirting across the tender flesh.

"Not yet," she giggled. "Still hours away but I thought you'd might want to prepare yourself early, pull yourself together a bit. Archie left a little while ago."

She felt his grin of pure sinfulness against the sensitive skin just below her jaw. "So we're alone?" he asked throatily. His hands glided across her smooth skin, down her back until his large hands cupped her little backside and pulled her pelvis adamantly into his.

"Horatio!" she gasped, a bit of genuine shock in her tone. "Isn't this where you're supposed to tell me you want to but you can't; that duty calls?"

He gazed up into her face, his mischievous grin and the devilish glint in his eyes sending a fresh surge of heat into Troy's womb. He arched one dark expressive eyebrow as he told her, "Not this time, my sweet." He rolled her over, settling his body on top of hers with his two strong arms braced against the bed on either side of her waist. His luscious full mouth went to her breasts, licking and kissing their tender peaks hungrily as if she were the most scrumptious of sweets. "You're so soft," he groaned, relishing in the sensation of her small yielding body beneath his own.

"And you, Mr. Hornblower, are most decidedly not!" she chuckled, wiggling against the feel of his cock, hard and heavy, against her belly.

He began to linger over one nipple, laving it with the roughness of his tongue, tickling it with its tip. He drew it between his generous lips and suckled until she moaned and writhed against him, arching her back, inviting him to consume the other little swollen bud. He nipped at it, gently biting down, just hard enough to make her cry aloud but not hard enough to cause her any real pain. Meanwhile, his hand massaged her buttocks, moving around her thigh to that delectable space situated at the juncture of her legs. His fingers caressed the soft skin of her inner thighs, making their way ever upward as she spread herself for him, anticipating his marvelous touch. He ceased his fondling abruptly, finding the sticky place where he'd splashed his essence, just outside the shelter of brown curls wherein lay his destination, probing it gently and looking into her face questioningly.

"It's you, Horatio," she told him with a smile and a slight flush. "Mmmmmm," she bit her lip, wriggling against his touch. "What happened to staunch, reserved, conservative, sensible, strict Lieutenant Hornblower of His Majesty's Navy?"

"He took leave of his senses some time ago, madam," he replied, moving his mouth from her breasts to her stomach, where that fiendish tongue of his teased her navel, dipping into the tiny indentation and swirling around it across the ticklish skin of her little rounded belly. "The first he touched you, the first he heard you tell him you loved him, the first he saw you naked..." His voice trailed off into a mumble as his mouth descended further. "The first he made love to you and heard him call his name in rapturous delight, the first he tasted you..."

She parted her legs for him as he came to nestle between her thighs. He took his fingers from the place he'd been attentively investigating and lightly drew them across his lips, admiring his own flavor. He lowered his head and Troy gasped in wondrous shock as she felt his tongue curiously lapping at the spot where he had spilled, up and up again, repeating each sensuous stroke like a cat. He placed a soft kiss against the smooth skin of her inner thigh at that location and murmured, "Is that what I taste like? Salty."

She giggled like a little girl, a giggle that turned into a moan as his long sensual fingers moved to pet and caress the damp curls at the coupling of her legs, parting her saturated lips and moving inside the slick walls of her sex. Her own musky perfume mingled with the fragrance of lilacs from her bath earlier, making his head spin. He'd only ever once had time and privacy enough to explore those remarkable delectable parts of a woman's body that remained an enigma to man, on leave in Portsmouth with an Inn Keeper's daughter. But she had not enticed nor tempted him so as Troy did, and he wanted to explore her mysteries in full. He was captivated by her private places; he wanted to feel, to touch, to taste her, to make her his absolutely.

"Am I still inside you?" he asked huskily, pressing his lips to the skin he'd exposed with his hand, suckling and licking up her womanhood, lightly, tantalizingly at first, harder, more intensely as his hunger grew. She arched aggressively off the bed, electrified by the feel of his hot mouth on her. He nibbled on the bud of flesh within her silken folds, making her gasp and pant, licking her lips again and again and repeating his name. He took hold of her hips firmly with his big hands and buried his face into her, eating away at her voraciously, stroking her rhythmically until she was moving against him as if he was inside of her. Her fingers clenched in his hair desperately as he drank her until she ached, thrashing her head back and forth against her pillow and crying out not words but sounds of animal abandon and lust. She sat up, cradling his head in her lap, pushing him further into her as a supernova began to implode in her belly, infusing her with its scorching heat and blinding light. At the height of her bliss, he thrust his thickest finger into her body's dewy entrance. Once again, her lover made her come violently, convulsing around him, the nectar of her love spreading across his mouth and chin.

She collapsed on her back, breathing as if she'd just fought seven battles at once. He moved up her body with a leeringly self-satisfied grin upon his face that made her laugh out right. He couldn't resist stopping at her breasts and having yet one more taste before ascending further and taking his mouth with his. She sampled her own tang in his luscious kisses. Her hand reached out to take into it the hardened heated length of him but he caught her wrist and pulled it away, pinning her to the mattress so she could barely move.

"May I remind you, Mr. Hornblower," she said with mock authority and sternness even as she arched her back so the stiff rosy buds of her breasts rubbed provocatively against his masculine chest, creating sweet friction, "that *I* am in command of this vessel."

He smiled wickedly, brushing his lips against hers delicately again and again. "And may I remind you, madam," he told her rakishly, shifting so his throbbing cock rested between her legs, against her inner thigh, "that I am in command of *this* vessel."

"Aye aye, sir," she grinned, her gray eyelashes fluttering over her smoky hazel eyes as she moved her hips against him. "Horatio..." she groaned.

"Damn your impudence, miss!" he said with feigned harshness. "I shall have to take my hand across your bottom again!" Though his words were rendered empty by the smoldering intensity with which he kissed her, whispering against her lips, "Oh my sweet, sweet Troy."

"Horatio," she gasped out as he nibbled at her neck and collarbone, "call me Amy, Horatio." He ceased his attentions and gazed into her eyes inquisitively. "My real name, Horatio, I want to hear you call me by it. I want you to make me feel like a woman."

He pressed his lips to her ear, his uneven fiery breath making her skin prickle. "*My* Amy," he whispered, savoring the name that belonged only to his mouth, binding her to him for all eternity. She was his truly, this other person who was nevertheless still her, definitively her heart and soul; and he was hers, this different person he was when he was with her, drunk with her scent and flavor. A shiver ran down her spine at the sound of his voice, the possessive tone in which he'd said her name as if he were tasting it and deciding it was the most scrumptious thing ever to pass his lips.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, planting small nipping kisses down her throat. He felt a shudder move her body as he pressed his full lips to the hollow of her collarbone. He leveled his face with hers again and brushing her cheekbone with his knuckles and gazing into her eyes he told her, "You are so beautiful, Amy."

She suddenly felt so small, so vulnerable in the enormity of his embrace. He captured her mouth again and again with gentle yet unrelenting kisses. His hands splayed across her thighs opening her wide for him, his fingers spreading her moist lips as the crimson passion engorged tip of his penis found the place to penetrate. She was so slippery and warm and so pleasingly inviting, his control crumbled the moment he pushed in.

He was overwhelmed by the desire to fill her fully, to touch places in her no man had ever before him and would never again, to be so deep in her she'd never be free of him. She gasped an inarticulate sound of shock and gratification as he thrust his massive length into her as far as he could go all at once. They rocked back and forth brutally, wanting to fill up each and every last empty part of each other. She was still a little sore from Archie and Horatio's pummeling just hours ago, but she welcomed him eagerly into her sex's tight slick tunnel, moving against him, trying to get more and more of him within her. Animal cries bubbled up from both their throats as they moved together in rhythm. For a moment, for one blissful second, the rest of the world didn't exist, it was just Horatio and Troy joined in the most primal way a man and a woman could be.

"Don't... stop," she cried, running her fingers through his hair again and again with clenched fists as he buried his face in her arching neck, kissing, pulling hotly at her soft skin. And suddenly rapture was upon her and she was tumbling upside down with Horatio's solid body the only substantial thing to hold onto. He followed thereafter, excited and delighted by her screams of fulfillment. His strength sapped, his energy gone for the final time, he fell into her, crushing her with his weight but she made no attempt to move him. In but a few hours he would be gone and she wanted to savor the feel of that magnificent body as long as she could.

They fell asleep entwined, his cock still buried deeply within her warmth, pleasant dreams floating within their heads.


	15. Chapter 15

Troy awoke several hours later with a smile spreading across her face as she quickly became aware of the fact that Horatio was not only still inside her but had begun to pump into her softly. He grinned lustily as she opened her eyes and wrapped her legs around his waist, moving against him in time to his penetrations.

Their love making was easy now, lost was the desperation of the previous night though they both knew this would most likely be the last time they ever felt each other. Horatio wanted it to be gentle, loving. With a hoarse groan he called out her name, her real name, and poured inside of her. She kissed his face tenderly and let him slip from her embrace as he rolled over and shuffled to the edge of the bed.

He began dressing as Troy just lay there, memorizing him; his movements, his physical presence. Finally, she herself moved to dress. As she was buttoning her breeches, Horatio came up behind her and wrapped his powerful arms around her waist. "My dearest Amy," he murmured into her hair. "Will I ever see you again?"

She turned in his embrace so she was facing him and gave him a small peck on the tip of his nose. "Now, Lieutenant Hornblower, you _know_ it's more difficult to be rid of me than this." He kissed her deeply, worshipfully. "And Horatio..." she whispered against his sweet lips.

"Mmmmmmm?" he managed to say as he nuzzled her throat.

"That name stays in this cabin," she told him with a mischievous smirk. "If you ever repeat it to anyone, I'll be forced to kill you." His bark of laughter split the warm protective silence of the room. He kissed her again and they exited the room together, though once they got on deck, they kept their distance from each other. "Mr. Hornblower, sir," Mr. Welles saluted, giving Troy a raunchy wink behind the lieutenant's back, "we've a longboat ready to launch to take ye and ye men back to the Indy. Captain?"

"I'll be going with them, Welles," Troy informed him, keeping her air of authority, "to extend my gratitude to Captain Pellew for his support and the use of his men while we rebuilt and regrouped."

"Aye aye, sir," Welles grinned and knuckled his forehead. "This way."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I trust everything is settled aboard your ship, Captain Alleyn?" Pellew asked as they stood on board the deck of The Indefatigable. He wore a wry smile as usual when he was contented and hearing him call her captain made Troy's heart swell with pride. She'd looked on him as somewhat of a father figure; if only her own were alive to see. She hoped he'd be as proud as Sir Edward seemed now. "And my men, they were to your satisfaction?" She had to choke back the laughter. Yes indeed, quite!, she wanted to reply. Instead she settled for a dignified nod. "Then out business is done."

"I would like to thank some of the men who went out of their way to help, sir, if you wouldn't mind," Troy said hesitantly. Pellew laughed and patted her on the back, telling her that she'd earned it. After she'd visited M'man Harrison in sickbay, she found Styles working on deck. "Mr. Styles, I've just seen Harrison. You've done good," she smiled. "You on the other hand," she indicated his injured arm, "seem a little rougher for the wear."

"Thank you, mum," he grinned, knuckling his forehead. "Ain't nothing that won't mend."

"I still say you'd make a fantastic pirate," she lowered her voice and leaned in forward. "If you ever find yourself in need of another occupation, I'd be doubly blessed to have a man such as yourself aboard my ship." He gave her a proper salute this time as they said goodbye.

"Did you hear that?" Oldroyd laughed. "Styles a pirate! I'm sure we'd all be cowering with him terrorizing the seven seas!"

"Shut it," Styles warned and Oldroyd instinctively ducked. When no blow was forthcoming he straightened and Styles surprised him by docking his ear, much to Matthews amusement.

"Captain Alleyn," greeted Archie, a naughty smirk plastered on his face. "Though I prefer the send of you gave me last night, I suppose I'll have to be content with a handshake now."

"Take care of yourself, Lieutenant K.," she smiled as he lifted her hand to his lips in a parting kiss.

Archie spotted Horatio approaching and was smart enough to leave quietly before he neared. "And you, Lieutenant Hornblower," Troy said as she noticed the tall officer drawing near. "I fully expect you to think on me every second of the day that is not occupied with nautical ponderings."

"I don't think that'll be a problem, Captain Alleyn," he replied with the hint of a smile, "for you have given me *much* to think on. The longboat is ready to depart for the Elizabeth Alleyn, if you are ready." She nodded and he escorted her along, pulling her as close as he dared. "You smell fantastic, like lilacs," he whispered. "And I think every time I catch the scent of lilacs I shall became extremely aroused and it'll all be your fault."

"Courage, Lieutenant Hornblower," she teased. He watched her as she descended into the longboat, letting her slip from him though he had the distinct feeling, whether it was merely wishful thinking or not, that this would not be the last time their paths crossed. She blew him a kiss when no one was looking as the boat departed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sunrise lit the sky orange and gold and shimmered off the calm seas as Troy stood at the helm watching the Indy as she withdrew and disappeared over the horizon. "You'll not be rid of me so easily, Mr. Hornblower," she muttered to the warm dawning breeze as it blew her hair about her face and whipped her shirt about her torso. "We'll see each other again, that I can promise." She smiled.

"Where to, Captain?" Welles asked.

"Where ever the wind takes us I suppose," she answered. "Set a course Mr. Welles."

"Aye aye, sir," he saluted and left.

"Again," she whispered resolutely in the direction the Indy had departed, then she turned and surveyed her crew, who for the most part were working hard adeck. She had a lot of work to do, she thought with a grin and a shake of her head. What a grand adventure this will be.

**THE END**  



End file.
